


A Place For My Tumblr Drabbles and My Everlark Birthday Gifts Drabbles

by endlessnightlock (Endlessnightlock)



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Divergent, F/M, Gen, I'll post the rating for each at the top of the page, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, In-Panem AU, Reincarnation in Chapter 8 also, Sci-Fy, Some other things, Suicide, but i'm still all Everlark, for a story about Everlark as teenage parents per the prompters request, in chapter 12, in chapter 8, one story features a Katniss/Cato pairing, one story features a Peeta/Madge pairing, so they aren't really positive pairings, some modern a/u's, these stories are really random lol sorry, this is just going to be a drabble collection, this won't contain any new content just reposting here from tumblr if you miss them there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:47:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 32,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24255379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endlessnightlock/pseuds/endlessnightlock
Summary: Just a place to stick the short fics I'm writing for @everlarkbirthdaygifts because I'm a disorganized person and Ao3 is one thing I can look at and say- "at least I have my shit together here".I'll mark each chapter/drabble with its rating.
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 158
Kudos: 163





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rated G, modern Everlark A/U

“Peeta, would you stop pacing?” Katniss was concerned about her boyfriend’s jittery movements around his living room. She stilled him by wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “My mom and dad are going to love you.” 

Peeta rested his hands on hers, and she laid her cheek against the soft cotton of his shirt. 

They stood that way for a moment in comfortable silence. She felt him take several deep breaths, and for a moment thought maybe she’d finally gotten through to him. But then he took her hands in his and brushed his lips across her knuckles. 

“That’s sweet of you to say, but you’re not a very convincing liar,” he told her.

“You are impossible,” she said, moving to face him. She grasped the collar of his button-down shirt and pretended to straighten it, when in reality it the way it laid was perfectly fine- Katniss just wanted him to  _ relax _ . “Why are you so sure they’re not going to like you.”

Tonight her mom and dad were meeting Peeta, her boyfriend of three months, for the first time. She was excited about the meeting because she knew they would like him. There wasn’t anything  _ not _ to like about Peeta.

But he was nervous. Very nervous. 

She’d never witnessed her seemingly confident, self-assured, articulate boyfriend behave this way. Multiple times over the last week she’d caught him muttering to himself, very un-Peeta-like things about needing to “update his wardrobe” or “brush up his resume.”

Katniss dropped the collar of his shirt and stood on her tiptoes to get closer, her hands moving to his shoulders. She smiled up at him. “There, I fixed it. You look very handsome. Perfect.”

His expression relaxed a shade, his mouth turning up in one corner. “You know you’re the perfect one,” he said,” to me, at least.”

It reminded her of the way he’d looked the first time they met. Peeta had been a surprise; she hadn’t been looking for a relationship, heck she didn’t usually even like blonds. He was a new mechanic at the garage she’d been taking her car to have serviced for the last decade. Katniss had almost fallen over on herself when he smiled at her from behind the service counter. She’d never seen a warmer expression on such a cute guy. 

The attraction to Peeta had been instant, but Katniss had brushed it off, knowing the likelihood of seeing him again was slim. Also, she didn’t feel like she could just ask him for his number. Women probably did that with him all the time.

But then a funny thing happened. 

Katniss began running into Peeta all over the place.

She saw him at the grocery store, and his smile there was just the same as before- shy but friendly. 

“Hi,” Katniss had said before quickly looked away with a misguided sense of self-preservation. But in that glance she’d allowed herself, she’d had noticed Peeta wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

And then a few days later they bumped into each other at the coffee shop down the street from the garage- a run-in that probably wasn’t that crazy, come to think of it. Katniss  _ may _ have visited that particular establishment on purpose. 

A girl had to get coffee somewhere, right? 

That day she found out that he liked either bittersweet hot chocolate or plain tea, while she was a heavy-on-the-dairy-and-sugar-in-my-coffee-drink kind of girl.

And then Katniss ran into Peeta at the grocery store again just a few days after the meeting at the coffee shop. That time they talked a bit longer. He’d had artichokes in his shopping cart, and she asked him “what exactly is it the people do with artichokes?” 

Peeta told her that he was making spinach-artichoke dip because his brothers and some of their friends were coming by to watch football that weekend. “I love it, but I live by myself so I don’t usually have a reason to make it,” he added. “It’s a lot of dip for one person.”

“Oh, I live alone, too,” Katniss admitted. “I never cook for myself. It’s mostly take-out or a bowl of cereal around  _ chez Everdeen _ .”

He’d laughed, his eyes crinkling in the corners, and his nose had scrunched up adorably. They’d both lingered a bit, which had eventually progressed to Peeta asking for her phone number after hemming and hawing for a few more minutes.

There were lots of dates out and dinners in, and here they were three months later still together and growing closer every day. Katniss was happier in this relationship than she’d ever thought it possible to be. She was pretty sure that Peeta was the one.

But there was one hurdle to overcome. 

Well, there might be more than just the one in the grand scheme of things, but this particular hurdle seemed like a biggie. 

Peeta was terrified of meeting Katniss’s mother and father because they were wealthy. 

Very wealthy.

Lily and James Everdeen had begun a company that manufactured organic skin and hair products while Katniss was in her late teens. It’d been a lifelong dream of her mothers, and sometime shortly after she’d moved out of the house the business exploded almost overnight. 

Her mother and father had moved out of their three-bedroom ranch home in the suburbs, where they’d raised her and Prim, and into a newly-built ten-bedroom twelve-bath home on a hundred acres of gorgeous land full of gently sweeping hills and lush woodlands just outside of Panem.

“They’re no different, they just have-“

“A lot of money? Successful careers?” Peeta stared down at his hands, which no matter how much he scrubbed and scrubbed, always maintained those stubborn oil stains around the crevices and underneath his fingernails.

Katniss sighed. She hated to see him like this. He was good at his job. He enjoyed his job and made an honest living at it. Wasn’t that enough? “Money isn’t everything.”

“I know that. It’s just … I just don’t want you to be embarrassed because of me, that’s all.”

Katniss had realized that vulnerability he was so open to sharing was one of the things she liked most about him. 

Not just liked, loved. He was so different from her, so open and unafraid to let others know how he felt. He was so easy to care about.

Katniss swallowed against the nerves that all seemed to be accumulating in her throat. She wasn’t sure if this was the ideal time to tell him how much he meant to her- but was there really ever a perfect time? No one had ever accused her of being a planner.

“They’re going to like you, just the way you are,” she said, her voice soft and a little shaky with nerves. 

She  _ was _ nervous, but not for the same reason he was. What she was about to say was another first for their relationship and a much bigger first than meeting each other’s family. “I promise they’ll love you.”

Katniss pushed her fears aside and said it then. Because it was true. Because she wanted him to know. “They’re going to love you because I do.”

The whole look of his face changed at her words. She didn’t want to leave any room for doubt so she steeled herself, rushing the rest of the words out before she lost her nerve. “The thing is… I love you, Peeta. I’m in love with you, actually,” she clarified, “and you make me so happy.”

The smile that lit up his face was priceless.

Worth a million bucks, easily. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated M. Everlark Modern A/U

_“Shot! Shot! Shot! Shot…”_

_“I can’t do it,” she laughed, wobbling on her feet a little as she tried to stand up. Johanna took one arm and Finnick the other and between the two of them, they managed to get her upright._

_“Come on! No better way to get over a broken heart,” Johanna told her, placing the shot glass in her hand. Katniss was already so far gone, her friend had to curl her fingers around the glass to get her to hold on. That in and of itself meant that she probably should have stopped drinking._

_But if she stopped drinking she’d have to start thinking about him again, and that wasn’t how she wanted to spend her evening. “My heart isn’t broken, We already broke up three years ago!” she told them, giggling under her breath in the way you could only do when you were both very drunk and very sad. The ultimate paradox._

* * *

Katniss cracked first one eye open and then the other, but quickly shut them again. The hotel room curtains were open only a minuscule amount, but it was more than enough to realize that daylight wasn’t her friend right now. 

“What the hell?” she grumbled, slumping back down to the bed. 

Katniss grabbed the edge of the blanket and pulled it over her head, aiming to block out the offense to her poor hung-over eyes. Everything hurt, even her sinuses seemed to be pulsing from the monster headache. Her stomach was queasy and her mouth tasted like she’d been eating a Brillo pad. And while she was in the middle of laying back down, she realized the feel of the sheets sliding across her skin meant she was naked. 

“Oh no,” she whispered, peering down at herself from the safety of her place under the covers where that god-awful morning sun couldn’t get to her. She wasn’t someone who typically enjoyed sleeping in the nude- she wasn’t free-spirited, or whatever in the heck people called it when they were comfortable enough to hang out in the buff. 

Katniss was kind of a prude and perfectly fine with that moniker. Peeta though, he’d been that way. It hadn’t been an overtly sexual thing with him either. 

At the thought of him, a dull ache began in her chest. It wasn’t particularly absurd to be thinking about him this morning either. Katniss had run into him last night, in Nashville of all places, a hundred miles from home.

And seeing Peeta again had been the deciding factor in her decision to get blackout drunk- a terrible idea by the way. After that, she must’ve hooked up with some guy- one whose face she couldn’t remember at all. 

But Peeta? God, she remembered Peeta from last night.

Katniss was out at one of the downtown bars with her colleagues after Friday evening’s last session- she and her co-workers stopped in after a late dinner due to Finnick’s prompting. 

The moment she spotted Peeta in a corner having a drink with a small group of guys had been a shock. 

She had no idea he was living in this part of Tennessee now. After working up the nerve to approach him, they stood next to the bar and made small talk for a few minutes. 

Things were awkward, to say the least. Peeta seemed uncomfortable, while Katniss’s heart galloped in her chest the way she imagined those horse’s feet in the large mural on the back wall of the bar would if they were real animals and not just a painted image on brickwork. 

A million things sat right there on the tip of her tongue while she tried not to gape at him- things she’d wanted to say since they’d broken up three years ago. Things she regretted and the way she missed him. 

The only thing Katniss managed to force out was a banal conversation about their jobs, and after the short, stilted conversation where she at least found out Peeta had opened a branch of _Mellark’s Bakery_ there in Nashville, he finished his drink, told her it’d been nice to see her again, and left the bar like he couldn’t get away fast enough. 

And after that horrible encounter with him, the one that made her feel like both a fool and like she wanted to die inside, Katniss started drinking. Heavily. A stupidly large amount of alcohol, actually, for such a small woman.

And what had it gotten her? Here, alone in an empty hotel room, naked and hungover as hell. 

Katniss sighed. 

She thought about things for a moment, and realized that she and the mystery man must’ve used a condom at least, because while she didn’t feel like she’d had unprotected sex… she felt like she’d had sex. The boneless feeling in her legs, the tired muscles of her inner thighs, and higher. Her breasts felt tender like someone’s mouth had been on them and even her arms felt weak.

Before last night it’d certainly been a while. Katniss had been pretty sure her vagina was on the verge of closing in on itself from disuse, but still, she recognized the feeling. The more she laid under the cocoon of covers she’d made for herself, the more things came back to her. Little bits of things. Vague memories of flirting with a faceless man, being comfortable enough to kiss him, a blur of things in between. Later, being underneath him in this bed. Strong arms, and digging her fingers into his back, his ass. It must have been pretty good. 

Now if she could only remember who _he_ was.

Katniss screwed her eyes shut tighter against the pain in the back of her head. Trying to remember more details only made her headache worse. The things she needed were a gallon of water and some pain pills, but the only thing she thought she could handle was passing out again. 

And she was almost asleep again when the bathroom door opened.

Katniss wasn’t alone. Whoever he was- he was still here. The guy probably wasn’t a serial killer or anything, because other than being extremely hungover she seemed fine (as hard as it was to tell), but still, it was unnerving not to know who was on the other side of the blanket.

She could hear the man getting closer to her, moving quietly through the room. She held her breath, assuming he was gathering up his things to sneak out. 

What surprised her was the moment he pulled the covers back from his side of the bed and climbed in again. 

Laying perfectly still, Katniss felt the blankets resettle around her.

_Well if this wasn’t fucking awkward, she didn’t know what was._

Katniss wanted to roll over and look at him but couldn’t make herself. 

This was why she didn’t have one-night stands. 

“Are you awake yet?” the man asked.

Her eyes flew open at the sound of the familiar voice. Hungover or not, she’d recognize him anywhere. 

“Peeta?” she managed, lifting her head off the pillow slightly before letting it drop again. Katniss felt the bed move behind her. The motion must’ve been him rolling onto his side because he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his body. 

“How are you?” he asked softly. 

At his first touch, Katniss relaxed in his arms. _Surprised,_ she wanted to say. “Kind of like hell, but not,” she answered, an honest response because while she’d never been more physically ill she’d also never been so… oddly happy. 

How was it she had spent the night with Peeta? The last time she remembered seeing him was at the bar, very early in the evening.

“Same,” he muttered, tilting his head enough to reach the sensitive spot behind her ear. He kissed her there before settling down again.

“Are you hungover too?” Katniss asked, her hand snaking around his that was resting flush at her waist. His fingers were making soothing little circles there and she closed her eyes so she could enjoy the sensation even more. “Because I feel like I left the bar with more alcohol in my bloodstream than that Jack Daniels distillery we visited on Wednesday.”

“So, so much alcohol,” Peeta agreed with a huff. “But probably not as much as you. You got an earlier start on it than I did.”

His warm breath tickled the back of her neck. “I think I drank the city dry,” she groaned as she felt her stomach clench, and not pleasantly. 

Katniss hoped she wasn’t going to be sick.

“Do you want some water?” he asked, drawing his hand away from her waist. He moved like he was going to get back up. “I should have brought you some before I laid back down.”

“In a minute,” Katniss said, using her hand to pull him tighter against her. “Don’t go anywhere yet,” she finished, quietly. She was afraid he’d disappear again. She was afraid to break whatever spell it was they were under this morning.

“Hey,” Peeta said, pulling his hand out from under her grip. The bed shifted as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the mattress, and she missed the feel of him behind her already. “I’m not going anywhere- I’m just getting you something to drink. Maybe some aspirin.”

“You don’t have to go into work today?” she asked, inching the covers off her head so she could watch him, her eyes blurry and squinting. The sun seemed to have moved high enough that it wasn’t burning her retinas anymore, at least.

Peeta sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on his boxer briefs before reaching down and picking his shirt up off the floor. “No- it’s my Saturday off. Do you want this?” he asked, tossing the shirt to her. 

Of course, he still remembered the way she used to steal them. 

When he got up to go back to the bathroom, Katniss dropped the covers far enough to slip the white tee over her head. She gave the soft cotton a deep sniff once the hem was down around her hips. The pure bliss, the endorphin rush of his smell- cologne and clean sweat, she could smell him on her body as well, and if she wasn’t rocking a skull-pounding headache she’d have sworn it was one of the best moments of her life.

She still had no idea what Peeta was doing here, although she supposed she’d find out soon enough.

Katniss watched him walk out of the bathroom with two white tablets in hand and a cup of water just a few seconds later. “Thank you,” she said gratefully as he sat down next to her on the bed.

“Welcome,” he replied easily, handing everything to her. “I hope this helps.”

Katniss smiled at him. “It will,” she said, popping the tablets in her mouth with a grimace and taking a long drink of the water. She practically drained the cup in one go. 

“Do you want more?” he asked, taking the paper cup from her and setting it on the floor.

Katniss shook her head and flopped back on the bed, wincing when her head hit the pillow.

“Since you said you don’t have to leave, will you lay down with me again?” she asked.

“Of course,” he told her. 

Peeta got up and moved to the other side of the bed. He settled in next to Katniss and rubbed her back with the palm of his hand, the way he remembered she’d always liked until she fell asleep again. 

Once he was sure that she was completely out, he reached over to the nightstand and pulled out the plain gold bands he’d slipped off their fingers after they made love the second time early this morning. Katniss had fallen asleep, but he’d just started to sober up at that point.

The rings hadn’t been a spur of the moment purchase. 

Peeta had bought them three and a half years ago, just a few short months before their breakup, and he’d never been able to talk himself into getting rid of the matched set. 

No matter how badly Katniss had broken his heart, he’d left those rings in the back of his dresser drawer where they remained undisturbed, gathering dust until last night when for some reason he shoved them into his pocket before leaving his house again to find her after taking the time to pull his head out of his ass.

And thank God, he found Katniss still there, drunk out of her mind but so happy to see him. 

They both had a few more drinks, they cried a little, they kissed, and.. well, the evening (early morning if he was going to be technical about it) ended with Peeta using those rings with the girl he’d always wanted to use them with. Yeah, a quickie wedding at a cheesy wedding chapel hadn’t been the way he’d imagined it happening, but still.

Still. She was back in his life and he wasn’t going to let anything come between them again.

Peeta knew he was going to have to talk to Katniss about their impromptu trip to the 24-hour Chapel ‘O Love last night which she didn’t seem to remember, but for now, he decided to let her sleep. There’d be plenty of time to figure things out later.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated T. Peeta is rescued from the Capitol un-hijacked.

Katniss came to an abrupt halt in the doorway of Peeta’s hospital room. _He’s back,_ she realized, the relief hitting her like a warm gust of wind before she darted into the room _._ The largest part of her had been sure he would never come out of the Capitol alive. But somehow, despite Snow's promise to break him because of her, he was here. 

Peeta's appearance was shocking- his skin littered with bruises, some yellowed with time while others were still fresh black and blue. There were cuts and burn marks visible all over his face, his arms, his legs, even the tops of his shoulders and upper back that presented themselves to her from the edges of the thin hospital gown he wore. He looked painfully thin with little left of the stockiness she'd assumed he would always maintain.

Peeta sat on the edge of the bed, wide awake and shaken. He was surrounded by doctors- one shone a bright light in his eyes while another was checking his pulse. A short, older woman in a lab coat had a hand on his back; she was speaking to him in a low tone. Katniss couldn’t hear what was being said. She wished she knew.

Peeta hadn’t seen her yet but she realized he must’ve been looking- he kept glancing around the room despite the blinding light they insisted on shining in his eyes. "Is she here?” he asked. When he got no immediate answer from the medical staff he spoke again in a frantic tone and his body began to shake. “Where’s Katniss?"

That did it, the desperation in his voice that matched the same feeling in her heart. His pleading tone cracked her wide open. 

“Peeta!” she said, her voice shaking.

The doctor with the bright light lowered his instrument to his side when Peeta tried to slide off the side of the bed, placing a restraining arm on him. “Mr. Mellark,” he said urgently, “you must stay still. We need to examine you-“

But the doctor didn’t have a chance to say anything else. He was shoved out of the way in a show of strength that would have surprised Katniss from anyone else in Peeta's condition, just far enough that she stepped around the man and darted into his arms. 

“Katniss. Oh, Katniss you’re _here,_ " He wrapped his arms around her as she fitted herself against him.

Instead of answering with words, she pressed her lips to his hungrily. His lips were cracked and dry and tremoring beneath hers, his skin cold to the touch as she stroked his face. 

Nothing had ever felt better. 

He seemed so fragile now for the boy she knew. But she didn't care. He was with her again. 

He was _safe_.

“You’re late,” Katniss finally said, pulling back to look him in the eye.

Peeta shook his head, his gaze searching her face while tears rolled down his cheeks. 

Katniss didn't hesitate to wipe the dampness away with the pads of her thumbs. “It’s after midnight,” she whispered around a shaky smile. "You were supposed to meet me at midnight.”

He managed a laugh. "I'm sorry," he said weakly, "I'll do better next time, I promise."

"You'd better."

There was more kissing then. That time it was with more relief and less desperation. A little more ownership like the kiss they'd shared at the lightning tree.

“I missed you so much,” Katniss told him, pulling back enough to catch her breath. Just enough to look at him for a moment, before resting her head in the crook of his body where his shoulder and neck met. She was on the edge of tears she didn’t want Peeta to see. He’d just gotten his own to stop.

Katniss wanted to be strong for him now, the way he had been so many times for her. 

She buried her nose in the side of this neck. His skin smelled medicinal, like disinfectant and pain, but underneath those scents that shouldn't be on him, it was just Peeta. She burrowed herself in further.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” he admitted, one hand going into her hair and stroking it a tad too roughly like he wasn’t really in control of himself yet.

She squeezed him tighter.

“Ms. Everdeen,” one of the doctors said, interrupting them. 

Her tone was not unkind when she laid a hand on Katniss's shoulder, “we need you to leave the room now so that we can examine Mr. Mellark. I know you are relieved to have him back, as are we all, but you can surely appreciate that he needs medical attention. We need to run some scans to check him for internal damage and do some other testing. He's in very poor condition."

_Like I don’t know that,_ she thought _._

“I’m not leaving,” Katniss said, pulling away and looking up at Peeta. “I just got him back." 

Panic began to overtake her, and she couldn't help the way her thoughts went back to the time the two of them were separated by the Capitol doctors after the first Games. She'd clawed at the glass door that had separated them then like some kind of wild animal, and the same desperation was forming inside of her now.

“No,” Peeta insisted, “I need her."

Katniss knew what he said was true. She remembered the beach when she’d used the word _need_ about him, but more importantly, at the moment she thought about the reality of _now_ , here in Thirteen. 

Peeta did need her to be here with him. There were so many things he was going to have to hear- that his family was gone, that their district was in ruins, that the life they'd always known, even the good things, was gone forever. He couldn't face those things alone. He needed her the same way she needed him.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m his wife,” she said, hoping the medical staff still believed the lie Peeta told to try and keep her out of the 75th Games. Surely they wouldn't turn away his wife?

“Sweetheart...” Haymitch said from behind her. Katniss flinched when she heard his footsteps begin moving towards her like he was going to try and take her away from Peeta.

"You can't make me!" Katniss shook her head like a small child would before a tantrum. “I’m not leaving him. But I promise I won’t cause any trouble. Here,” she said, backing away a little, aware her reputation wasn't one of cooperating with authorities. She stood beside Peeta and threaded their fingers together. “I’ll sit on the other end of the bed or something. I'll stand. I’m just… you don’t understand, you can’t ask me to leave him. We were… we were separated by the Capitol and...”

Peeta put his other hand over hers. “I need her here,” he repeated, his voice shaking, his body trembling harder at the thought of being separated again. "After… everything I've been through, please."

After a moment of studying the pair, the doctor sighed. Maybe he realized what others already knew about the two of them. They were a team, a single unit. “Fine, but we insist on you remaining out of the way Ms. Everdeen. You may sit behind him for now.”

“I will,” she reiterated, dropping his hand just long enough to climb onto the bed behind Peeta before the doctor could change his mind. She tucked her legs up underneath her and made herself as small as possible. 

“Peeta, I’m right here,” she reminded him, touching his shoulder before dropping her hand to her side. 

At her words, he let out a breath and seemed to relax a little. 

She was going to keep Peeta safe now, no matter what. She was never going to let him out of her sight again.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modern a/u rated T

Peeta’d been ready to drop for most of the evening at work. Fortunately for him, he wasn’t behind the register tonight or he would’ve been asleep in no time, and that in turn would have earned him a slap in the back of his head from his mother or one of his brothers for sure. 

Instead, he was relegated to the kitchen where he kept busy working on wedding cakes- it was early May and the beginning of the wedding season. 

They would be very busy at the bakery for the rest of the summer- in a few more weeks they would be shifting to the items people ordered for graduation parties in addition to wedding cakes. Peeta was graduating in a few weeks himself, but he doubted there would be a party for him. He was still at the bottom of his family’s shit-list for being, what his mother called, “a disgrace to them all.” Like the Mellarks had ever been some kind of model family. 

That was a laugh.

Peeta managed to make it through the workday without closing his eyes, but ended up dozing on the bus for the majority of his ride home; the vibrations from the tires rolling across the road and up through the metal body to the windows must have lulled him to sleep. 

His feet were heavy as he climbed off the bus in front of their building and then trudged up the two flights of stairs to the apartment.

Once in front of their door, Peeta leaned his forehead on it for just a second before sticking his key in the lock. He was exhausted.

Once he managed to get himself together, he unlocked the door and walked in. Things were dark.  _ Katniss and Autumn must both be asleep _ , he realized. It was almost eleven.

He sighed and shut the door gently behind him so as not to disturb his girlfriend or daughter. 

Peeta hated these long hours away from them, hated not having as much time to spend with them as he would like. The only exception right now was on the weekends before Katniss had to go to work herself. 

What else was there to do? At least graduation was in a few weeks. If they could just manage to hold things together that long, things would start getting easier. He knew it.

Peeta took off his shoes and set his book bag down next to the door where he could grab it tomorrow morning. They were studying for finals in class, so there wasn’t any school work to bring home. 

At least Peeta was still able to  _ go _ to school, unlike Katniss who’d decided to finish her senior year online instead of trying to find a sitter for the baby. He knew she probably would have rather kept going to classes with him, but there was no one to leave Autumn with during the day. 

His mother wasn’t an option, not with the way she’d knocked Peeta around for years. He wouldn’t trust his mother with a dog he liked, let alone his infant daughter.

Katniss’s mother wasn’t involved in their lives right now at all. She’d been a casual drug user who became an addict after Katniss's father and sister died in a car accident at the beginning of her freshman year.

The two of them became friends after the life-changing accident because Peeta finally worked up the courage to talk to the pretty girl with the silver eyes he’d had a crush on for years, but only because Katniss had looked so lost, so broken. 

His heart had broken for her, and because he realized she needed someone (and no one else seemed to be paying attention to her or he wouldn’t have been that brave), Peeta finally got over himself. He approached her one day while she sat at the corner of an almost empty lunch table and asked Katniss if she wanted to go outside with him and eat. 

He’d been so surprised when she said yes. He still didn’t know why she’d agreed to it.

They began sharing their lunch period every day after that. Katniss was mostly silent during that time but seemed to genuinely enjoy the leftover baked goods Peeta brought every day from the bakery to share with her and the small talk he made to fill the silence. 

She started coming back to life a little more every day after that, although plenty of days were still dark ones for her. They became closer and were soon hanging out after school, more and more all the time until they were nearly inseparable. 

Katniss leaned on him for support, and Peeta found that he liked being leaned on. Needed. Cared about. He was the most important person to someone for the first time in his life. He’d decided that very first time he approached her that he wouldn’t tell her how he felt- she was grieving for her lost family, two dead and one just dead to  _ her _ , and he wasn’t going to complicate things any more than what they were. He would just content himself being her friend.

But then one day, a little more than a year after they’d started talking, the two of them were walking across town to get milkshakes for her birthday when Katniss pulled him down a back alley. Without a word of explanation, she pressed him back against the side of the laundromat, stood on her toes, and kissed him. 

Peeta still remembered the feel of the cold bricks through the thin cotton of the t-shirt and shorts he was wearing that day and the way Katniss eagerly pressed her body and mouth against his like she was starving for his touch. They both were starving for it- for love and affection. 

After that day they were  _ together _ . He knew it would have happened anyway.

Katniss told Peeta that she loved him, that she needed him. He’d barely kept himself from crying when he told her he felt the same. Things were a lot better for both of them after that, even with her situation with her mostly-absent mom and his shitty home life, they were happy. They were inseparable. Life was good.

And the summer before their senior year, they had sex for the first time. They were at her house one night when Katniss was home alone again after her mom had disappeared. They were reckless and went farther than either had planned. They had unprotected sex, but only that _one_ _time;_ they went out first thing the next day and bought condoms to use, and they used them every single time after that first time. But it didn’t matter about all the other times after, because one slip-up had been enough. 

Katniss was pregnant. 

When Peeta broke the news to his parents, they nearly went through the roof. 

Katniss never did tell him what her mother’s reaction was. “It doesn’t matter,” she’d said, holding back tears. Of course, it had mattered. Peeta didn’t know what to say. The only thing he knew to do was hold her, and he did, cradling his girlfriend on his lap until she’d worn herself to sleep crying.

They made plans to find an apartment they could rent after that. She couldn’t stay with her mother, and he couldn’t stay with his family much longer either. A place of their own was the only option. So he found an apartment building where the landlord would rent to him despite having just turned eighteen. 

His father co-signed the lease of the small one-bedroom without argument- probably relieved to have him out of the house.

Katniss found a part-time job at the grocery store around the corner while Peeta continued working as many hours as he could at the bakery. There wasn’t much leftover every month, but they managed.

And of course, people talked about them. At school, at their respective jobs, everywhere really. Katniss was a small girl, and slight, and looked younger than what she was. A pregnant belly was glaringly obvious on her. Peeta was bigger than her of course, but he certainly didn’t look like a man yet, just a teenage boy who still had some filling out to do and a few inches to gain. Together they looked like exactly what they were- two kids getting ready to have a kid.

Autumn was born in February, the day after Valentine’s Day. He was by Katniss’s side the whole time she was in labor, it was only them besides the medical staff in the room, and found himself stunned by the tiny little black-haired baby that looked so much like his girlfriend. 

He hadn’t been ready for it. Peeta hadn't realized he could love another person the way that he immediately loved Autumn.

Peeta bypassed the bathroom. He knew he should shower and brush his teeth before going to bed, but he was so tired he could barely stand. Instead, he went straight to the bedroom where he found Katniss asleep on the bed with Autumn lying beside her on the mattress. 

They didn’t typically sleep with the baby, but sometimes they’d both fall back asleep after nighttime feedings, so they put a baby gate up on his side of the bed just in case.

Gently, so as not to wake either of them, Peeta scooped up his daughter and put her back in her crib. When he set her down on the mattress, Autumn raised her fist to her mouth and made a little smacking motion with her lips as if she was looking for Katniss again. But just a moment later, she was still.

Peeta sucked in a breath. God, his daughter was so amazing and he missed her so much during the day. He missed them  _ both _ so much. 

He couldn’t wait for school to be out tomorrow- he’d asked his dad for the day off at the bakery, and had plans to stop at the grocery on the way home and pick some things up he needed to cook a birthday dinner for Katniss. He couldn’t wait to spend the whole afternoon and evening with his girls.

_ His girls _ , Peeta thought as he pushed his pants down his legs, peeled off his t-shirt and climbed in the bed next to Katniss. She stirred in her sleep but didn’t immediately wake up, much like Autumn had. 

It was scary to think that they only had each other to rely on sometimes. But they were managing. They fought and had disagreements and sometimes Katniss wouldn’t talk and sometimes Peeta didn’t know when to stop talking, but they loved each other. They made it work.

He scooted next to her, wrapping his arm around her middle and pulling her back against his chest spoon style. Katniss woke up a little, just enough that she turned her head to look up at him, her eyes shiny from the reflection of the streetlamps outside the bedroom window. 

“Hey,” she said, “sorry I didn't wait up for you.”

“I didn’t want you too,” Peeta whispered so as not to wake up Autumn too. “Just go back to sleep, I can barely keep my eyes open.”

Katniss spoke around a yawn. "I know, but I feel like I haven't seen you all week."

“I'm sorry."

"I know," she said softly, "it's just a few more weeks. We'll manage."

"Maybe we can take Autumn to the park tomorrow,” Peeta suggested, turning his head so that his nose was buried in her loose hair. “It’s not supposed to rain.”

“Sounds good," she said, "I'd like that."

They were quiet then, and Peeta closed his eyes once he heard the soft inhale and exhale signaling that Katniss had fallen back to sleep. 

He followed soon after.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an in panem, no games drabble rated G

Katniss breathed a sigh of relief when the edge of the meadow came into sight. It meant she was only a short distance from home now, and she was more than ready to get indoors and out of her wet clothing. Nothing sounded better than lying underneath a blanket for a bit and having a cup tea. 

The persistent weariness had been hanging about Katniss for the better part of a week now, accompanied by a feeling of malaise that she just couldn’t seem to shake; it wasn’t the typical unease they all lived with as residents of District Twelve, that persistent feeling that was more prolific in the Seam than miners lung or wasting disease, but an entirely different, all-consuming drain on her mind.

She’d had a hard time forcing herself out of bed this morning, but not getting up was never going to be an option for Katniss. And while today’s trip to the woods hadn’t been particularly good, she’d managed to find two thin squirrels. There wasn’t enough meat on their little bodies to trade in town this early in the spring (everyone and everything was thin after the cold of a long winter), but there would be enough to put something in their stomachs for one more day. 

And then tomorrow would be more of the same- rise, dress, go to the woods, search for something to eat, hope that nature wouldn’t be playing against her in the game of survival, come home, warm-up, go to bed either hungry or fed. It was her life, and she’d never questioned it much, so why should things be any different now?

Katniss trudged across the field that was still brown from winter. Her eyes scanned as she walked, noting the little hints of green grass buried beneath the dead leavings from last fall. 

But in a day or two, she realized, she would take this journey again, and the new growth would be outshining the old once more. Soon after that, there would be dandelions. She stopped in her path then and took a good look at what was happening beneath her feet. Maybe sooner than that.

There they were, a few little arrow-tipped, toothy leaves, just beginning to emerge from the earth. The sight of the dandelion leaves seemed to jar her into a state of wakefulness. To her surprise, a smile even crept up the corners of her lips. 

Dandelions. The reminder of things that were before and the things that are now. What things could be in the future. Good again. A bit of that curtain of melancholy began to slip off, unclouding her mind. 

Dandelions. They always meant hope. 

For today she would let them be. The leaves weren’t really large enough yet to start gathering. Not only that, but Katniss was suddenly anxious to be back to her family. 

Peeta, home and out of work for the last month since the cave-in at the mines had left him injured. He’d been fortunate to get out with his life, if not the entirety of his left foot. The two of them had agreed he was lucky. They’d also agreed he couldn’t go back down into there. Not after losing her father the same way. Not with how much Katniss and their daughter needed him. She wasn’t sure exactly how the three of them were going to survive, but there had to be something else he could do for work. 

For the first time, she felt real hope that they would find something else. They just had to give it time. For now, they were getting by, and that had to be enough.

Katniss reached their place a few minutes later. The clapboard Seam house could only be considered little more than a shed, but it was their place. 

She opened the door to see Peeta and Aster laying on the couch together asleep. His injured foot was propped up on a low stool, and their almost one-year-old daughter was tucked between his chest and the back of the couch.

Katniss thought she hadn’t disturbed them when she walked in, but he turned his head in her direction as she shut the door behind her.  
“Hey,” he said softly, tightening his arm around Aster and sitting up a bit, careful not to disturb the sleeping baby.

Without hesitation, she walked over and kissed him then- wet clothes, muddy boots, two dead squirrels in her pants pockets be damned.

Peeta’s eyes searched her face once she’d pulled back, his expression quizzical. He’d been privy to her recent bout of melancholy (of course he was, she could never keep anything from him) and had noticed the way she’d distanced herself lately. He seemed surprised by her greeting but certainly happy. 

“Are you alright?” he asked gently, his free arm curling around her waist.

Katniss brought her forehead to rest against his, leaning into his embrace. She closed her eyes, the sudden onslaught of emotions too strong to keep them open any longer. Relief. Acceptance.

"I will be," she said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated M, canon divergence. Peeta/Madge pairing (against their will) if that's not your thing. I just felt like writing a little angst :). References to non-Everlark sex.

“I think I’m in love with her,” Madge says to me, her voice just barely above a whisper.

* * *

We’re seated next to each other on a posh, satin-covered bench in the great hall of the presidential mansion. The benches are deceptively comfortable looking but narrow, so it’s a difficult task staying on them. The sensation is a lot like balancing your sense of self with the knowledge you have to stay in line if your family is to remain safe. So it’s something we’re used to.

Just like all the rest of the mass gathered here, we’re waiting for Katniss to make her entrance through those intricately carved double doors that separate the ballroom from the rest of the presidential mansion. In just a moment she’ll walk through the door on Snow’s arm and we’ll be forced to watch as he ushers her to the end of the aisle to meet her groom.

“Don’t pretend that you don’t feel the same way,” Madge murmurs.

She stares up at me with those wide, beautiful blue eyes. She’s lovely and graceful. She’s my wife.

I’m not in love with her, but I fucked her like I was this morning on those pristine white sheets of our guest room and left a mess of the place. I shouldn’t take my frustrations out that way, it’s not the avoxes’ fault the only girl I ever loved is getting married to someone else today.

I’d say the sex is unfair to Madge, but it’s really not. I know she likes to pretend it’s Katniss with her when my head is between her thighs, just like I pretend it’s Katniss I fucked so hard this morning I’m lucky the bed didn’t break beneath us.

Lucky.

Yeah right.

“I never said I didn’t,” I remind her, placing a kiss on her head. “I’ve never lied to you.”

“I know you haven’t, Peeta.”

When Katniss enters the room a moment later, tiny but luminous in a dress covered in so many pearls I’m surprised she can walk in it, lips trembling and eyes shining with repressed, fearful tears, I have to look away. I can’t look at her- it hurts too much.

But I don’t know where else to look. I sure can’t focus on Gale, the lucky bastard.

It should’ve been me waiting at the end of the aisle for her.

Instead, I’m here with Madge, my Capitol-approved wife, assigned to me two years after Katniss and I’s stunt with the berries during the last moments of our games. Two years Katniss and I had spent side by side, sure that we would be together forever.

The thing with Madge and Katniss had never been anything but a fantasy for my wife, but I didn’t remind Madge of that. I’m not a cruel man. Just a bitter one.

Katniss and I’s love story got the nation so riled up, leading to so much subsequent talk of rebellion, that Snow decided the only thing to do was separate us.

So I got Madge and she is getting Gale. As a generous addition, our families won’t be executed.

While I felt like I was dying inside, Snow could tell the country, “look, even the star-crossed lovers don’t believe in this! How can fighting for love be worth the price, when even the greatest of love stories wasn’t true?”

It was true, Katniss and I’s love story. It still is true. That bastard.

I hate him. I hate myself.

I love Katniss.

I feel sorry for Madge. She feels sorry for me. We use each other. It works- there’s no anger between us. Only acceptance.

As for me, I’d like to slit Snow’s throat and watch every drop of the blood pulse from his body until the floor was covered in it.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today-“

As the officiant begins the ceremony, I grasp Madge’s hand in mine. Hers shakes almost as much as mine does.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon Compliant post-Mockingjay for Everlark Birthday Fics, Rated G

“What are you working on?” I ask Peeta, finding a seat for myself on the counter. 

“I have chairs,” he reminds me gently, gesturing towards his dining room table with a tilt of his head while ignoring the question. His tone is chiding but his words come with a smirk, although he never looks up from what he’s doing with his hands. His hips rest against the countertop, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, his hands and wrists speckled with flour as he carefully rolls out some type of dough into a wide, thin, rectangular sheet on the countertop. 

I’ve found during the last several months while we’ve spent more and more time together, watching him work is one of my favorite things to do. Peeta seems to take a lot of satisfaction in the attention to detail he devotes to baking. When he’s working on something like this, he will even use a ruler to make sure each line and corner is the precise length or dimension he needs. It’s soothing watching his hands move. 

It’s a time we typically don’t spend much of on talking. He seems to get lost in his thoughts as I do in mine, but I find I’m much calmer with him. I enjoy watching him sketch as well, and that time is so much like that we spent together between the first and second games when I broke my foot and he would come and visit me every day.

I like being with Peeta, I like knowing where he is and that he’s safe. 

“Hey, I got cleaned up before I came. These are even my new boots,” I tell him, kicking one foot out so that he can see the soft, molded leather around my feet. Effie picked these boots out for me herself, and I have to admit they’re perfect for my needs. “I won’t get your counters dirty.”

“Better not,” Peeta said, peering over at my foot. He looked back at his dough, all the while smiling to himself. “I don’t want a mess on my countertops.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Did you have any luck this morning?” he asks a moment later.

“No, but I didn’t try very hard,” I admit. The district just received a shipment by train from the Capitol yesterday, so we have an abundance of fresh food right now. There’s always plenty to eat these days, but I still don’t like to waste anything given to me. “I just felt like going out.”

Today has been a good day, and good days for me typicality involve hunting or at least going to the woods. I do my best to follow the routines that Dr. Aurelius pressed me into re-adopting. Some days the routines feel good, while at other times I just go through the motions. Whichever it is, at least the active days keep me grounded in the present. There are plenty of days where I can’t get up at all and just end up spending in bed or my closet, but those have been fewer recently. I’m glad for it.

The times where I feel well enough to come over and see Peeta after hunting, by open invitation at this point, I made sure to be completely clean. The smell of blood is one of the things that could trigger a flashback; they’ve happened occasionally. 

We know Peeta’s triggers aren’t things we can dance around forever. For now, we’re still careful. All of us are just sort of holding on right now and recovering the best we can. I’m so thankful to have Peeta home again, I won’t knowingly risk anything that could take him away from me.

But today I’m not thinking about any of that. Today feels like a good day.

I kick at his hip, just a little teasing nudge to get his attention. For some reason I want Peeta to look at and acknowledge me. I want some of that attention he has directed towards his baked goods for myself.

Peeta must’ve read my thoughts because he looks up at me then, catching my eye. At this proximity, I notice, I can see the gold flecks in his irises, just a shade darker than his light eyelashes. He studies me carefully, more so than he typically would, and it makes me feel hot and itchy underneath my skin. 

I say something to clear the air. “You never said, what is that?” I ask, pointing at his rectangle of dough.

He sets his rolling pin aside and uses the crook of his arm to push the hair out of his eyes. 

His hair has grown longer than I’ve ever seen it in the time that he’s been back. He claims he’s waiting for me to give him a haircut, while I think it's just something he doesn’t care enough to bother doing anything with. Peeta still doesn’t seem to be capable of growing any facial hair since the treatment his prep team gave him to keep it from growing during the Games, or he’d probably have a beard to match the long waves that hang around his ears. I wonder if that’s something that will ever return or if he’ll remain smooth-cheeked for the rest of his life. 

“It’s a filled pastry,” Peeta finally says, dropping his eyes again.

“Cheese filling?” I ask hopefully.

He shakes his head, still smiling. “Not this time, sorry. Would you mind getting the filling out of the refrigerator for me? I don’t want to have to stop what I'm doing.”

“Sure,” I say, hopping down from my spot on the counter. My balance falters for just a second, probably from not being accustomed to the new boots, and I bump into him. When I reach for his arm to steady myself I'm surprised at the unexpected flare of heat that comes from both the place where our hips meet and my hand on his bicep. The sensation spreads through my body and warms me to my toes.

Glancing at Peeta, I realize he must've felt it too. He seems flustered. 

“What am I looking for?” I ask, breaking the thickening silence. Neither of us seems to know what to say to the other. 

Not only that, but I'm also in shock. It's only been a short while that I’ve been able to feel anything in the scope of human emotions besides misery, let alone… this. This feeling of heat I always used to have with him- the one I never knew what it meant until after it over. After I thought I'd lost him for good.

I love him.

I love Peeta- of course, I do. How could I not? 

I don’t know how he feels about me now. He's never said and I never asked. I do know he cares enough to be intimately involved in my life, I just don’t know if he's in love with me any longer. 

Surprisingly, his feelings haven't affected mine one way or the other. I will always love him. I can't stop.

But I have wondered what type of love I felt if the part of me that wanted to kiss him and let him hold me again was gone. Did that loss of what I suppose one would define as a desire for him mean I was permanently broken by the war? By the loss of my sister? I’ve wondered because at one point it seemed entirely plausible.

At this moment, standing inches from him, I recognize that part of me is most certainly not dead. I want to kiss him.

Peeta watches me, unsure himself. I'm left to wonder if my thoughts are written all over my face. I’ve never been much of an actress. 

“There’s a bowl,” he begins, seeming at a loss for the words he wants to say. His hesitation makes me smile, and I’m sure then that it's not just one-sided. He feels it too. “On the middle shelf, there's chopped fruit," he adds.

“Okay," I say, letting my hand drop from his arm for now and stepping away. Letting the moment pause for now. Whether we will resume this connection today or whether it just fades away, for now, I don't know. 

I walk over to the refrigerator and tug the door open. I find myself staring into it, biting my lip to tame the smile that’s stretching across my face. I take another moment to use the cool air from inside it to calm my hot skin. 

Things are changing. 

I think I'm ready for it.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated M, canon-divergent/reincarnation fic 
> 
> Triggers include: canon-typical violence, mild references to sexual content, canon-divergent suicide (not graphic)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder of the trigger warnings, especially the suicide warning

  
  


_“You may now kiss your bride,” the reverend says, beaming at the two of us._

_My new husband steps forward and lifts the veil up and over my head- it’s attached to the brim of the pillbox hat I borrowed from my cousin Vera._

_She’d insisted it wasn’t purple at all but just the right shade of blue, so it counts as both my something borrowed and my something blue. My shoes are even older but prettied up with a bit of polish. The suit I’m wearing isn’t new either- new garments are hard to come by, what with a war on right now, but it still cuts a smart look. The corsage on my wrist will have to count as my new thing today._

_It doesn’t matter what I’m wearing because we’re marrying at the courthouse while he’s home on leave from the navy. He’s being shipped off to the Atlantic next week._

_This isn’t the wedding I planned on having, but the groom is the right one and that’s the part that counts._

_His touch is gentle as he slides his hands around my neck until my head is cradled in his palms. When my face is close to his, he grins at me._

_“I love you,” he says before tugging me forward to meet his lips, cutting off the chance to get out my declaration._

_But he knows, he knows. His eyes say everything that needs to be said._

  
  


* * *

  
  


The stark, bright whiteness of the sun’s reflection off the cornucopia is searing my eyes. 

I drop the bow and arrow to the ground, hands shaking, shocked at my behavior. I can’t believe I drew a weapon on him.

“Do it- one of us should go home,” Peeta says, his tone insistent as he steps towards me. “It should be you, Katniss.”

When I say nothing, still in shock at the thought of what I almost did, he bends over and tugs at the binding of the tourniquet around his leg. 

Peeta is pale, his skin almost bloodless at this point and I know that he won’t last long if he takes it off. 

I imagine his blood pouring out on the ground. I imagine him dying before my eyes.

No, no, he can’t. I can’t lose him. I can’t go on… after this. I’ll never leave this place.

After everything that Peeta and I have been through these last few days. No one else will ever understand, no one else will _know_. I just can’t.

I can’t go home alone.

* * *

  
  


_We stumbled together into what we were told at check-in was the Honeymoon Suite of the Mockingjay Inn. After the ceremony, we had supper with his Momma and Daddy. My folks are both gone but my sister came to wish us luck and serve as my matron of honor._

_We only spent a minimal amount of time with our families tonight, though. We’ll see them again two days from now before he ships out._

_I can’t let myself think about that right now, though. We have two days to be together before then, and we plan to stay alone in this room for every second of them._

* * *

  
  


We have little time left to make a decision now. 

I can’t let him do it this way. 

“Peeta wait,” I beg, “I just… wait.”

I pull a handful of the nightlock berries out of the bag at my side.

“No… Katniss, no!” he yells, letting go of the wrapping around his leg and limping towards me. “What are you doing?”

* * *

  
  


_I lie naked beneath the sheets, watching as he buttons up his shirt and tucks it into his pants._

_I should probably get up and wash and dress as well. Time is slipping away._

_I’ll get up soon, but this will be my last chance to watch him for a good long while. We have to be at the dock soon and after we get there I’ll have to share him with everyone else._

_But for this moment he’s just mine._

_He glances up at me. Smiles._

_I force myself to smile back at him. This is no time for tears. I have to be strong._

_“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking my hand in his._

_I bite my lip._

_He shakes his head. “Hey,” he chides me gently, “none of that.”_

_He leans over and kisses me. At the touch of his warm lips against mine, the emotion leaks out of that secret place I’ve willed it to stay over the last forty-eight hours. I beg the tears to stay back, will them not to ruin our last moments alone together until I see him again._

_But of course, he knows. He leans back and assesses me, his eyes are soft, his expression comforting._

_“Just come back to me,” I whisper when I can find nothing but the truth to say to him, “promise me you will.”_

_He lets out a breath. “I will darling. I always will.”_

  
  


* * *

  
  


We stand back to back, Peeta and I, holding out our berries for just a moment, letting all of Panem see what the Capitol has driven us to do. They will have no victor this year- consequences be damned.

“At the count of three,” I whisper, twining my fingers with Peeta’s.

  
  


* * *

  
  


_Seventeen months and our eight-month-old son later, he comes home. Not entirely the man he was when he left, and certainly not whole. There are still battles in his mind, and a leg and two fingers he lost in the Atlantic, but I don’t care. He came back, just like he promised he would._

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The light is so bright when I open my eyes again that I almost think we’re still in the arena with the sun glaring off the cornucopia once more, but I know better. The bittersweet flavor the nightlock left when I crushed it between my teeth is gone. 

Peeta’s hand is still in mine, though. I turn to him, catching his eye. 

I realize then that he no longer looks bloodless. He positively glows, his blond waves shining like a halo around his head.

I smile at him. 

He smiles back at me. 

I’ll never be alone again.

My head turns when I hear my father say, “Welcome home, Katniss.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EBG- Peeta and Katniss celebrating an anniversary prompt. Rated G.

There was a loud knock on the front door, interrupting Katniss in the middle of lacing up her boots- a new, dressy pair her sister had insisted she get to go with the dress she'd bought for tonight. 

Prim initially tried to talk her into some stilettos, but Katniss balked at the strappy red heels. There was no way she'd ever wear them after tonight and sexy or not; she was much too practical of a soul to shell out the money. Besides, they hadn't looked like something she wanted to wear out while trekking around in a winter storm- and snow was what the forecast held for tonight. If they hadn't made plans to go somewhere in town, they probably would have canceled them altogether.

Getting married a week before Christmas wasn't the most practical thing she and Peeta could have done, but they'd been young and in love and just slightly crazy, or at least that's what everyone called them back then. They'd only been dating for three months when they decided to go ahead and get married, because why not? They shocked their families with their rash courthouse wedding and were told by almost everyone that it was too soon to know if they were right for each other. 

But here they were, fifteen years later- still together and still in love. 

Katniss was getting up to answer the knock at the door when Peeta walked out of the bathroom, looking very handsome (she swore he got better looking every year) in a pair of dark slim-fit pants with a button-down shirt- the combination of which, by the way, did great things for his ass and shoulders. 

"I got it," he told her, beginning to hurry past. 

But then Peeta paused in his tracks to take a long look at her in the new dress. He assessed her in a relaxed, admiring way that made her feel ticklish all over. 

"Looking good, wifey," he finally told her with a private smile, "I can't wait to show you off tonight."

Katniss stood to her feet and smoothed the body-hugging material flat across her stomach, trying not to let herself get too distracted from their plans for the evening by the way he was looking at her. Sometimes she still couldn't get over the way he affected her after all these years. "Thank you," she said. 

"I always liked you in red," Peeta remarked. He stepped towards her, drawn instinctually, but was quickly distracted by another loud knock on the door that jarred them both. 

She'd forgotten about the guest at the front door. 

"Is someone going to come open this for me?" Peeta's dad called from outside on the front step.

Katniss frowned at her husband. "What's your father doing here?" she asked, stepping around him to answer the door. It was too cold outside to make her father in law wait around all night.

"I have no idea," Peeta told her, sounding equally confused, "I don't know what he could want. And I thought Grandpa number two would've been here by now," he added under his breath as he followed her, "I hope he doesn't make us late."

Their eight-year-old daughter Hannah came tearing into the room just as Katniss was placing her hand on the knob to open the door and let her father-in-law inside. "Grandpa made it. Jack!" she hollered, turning around and calling for her five-year-old brother authoritatively, "I told you it wasn't too late to call him, he's here."

"There's my favorite daughter-in-law," Hugh, Peeta's father, greeted Katniss as he stepped inside the house. Underneath his arm, he carried a golden Mellark's _Bakery_ box. 

She quickly shut the door behind him and moved to allow him inside the living room.

"Dad, why are you here with what I assume is dessert?" Peeta asked, taking the box out of his father's hands, "I didn't order something and forget about it, did I?"

"No, Dad!" Hannah laughed, snatching the box away and holding it carefully in both of her small hands. "The cake was all my idea, and Jack's too."

"We couldn't let you have a 'nannerversary without some cake," Jack piped in, appearing like an apparition next to his sister. 

Their son was like Katniss, quiet on his feet, but unlike his mother, he had a way of always showing up unexpectedly. They'd had to put a lock on their bedroom door after one too many interruptions, precisely because of Jack.

"Did someone say cake?" A new voice joined in- it was 'Grandpa' Haymitch, Katniss's great uncle, who acted as a surrogate grandparent to the kids since her father was no longer alive. He was babysitting for them tonight and must've come in through the back door while everyone was distracted by the commotion in the living room.

"Yep," Jack said, taking his Grandpa Haymitch's hand and leading him towards the kitchen, "it's Mom and Dad's 'nannerversary, so they had to have a cake to celebrate."

A moment later, everyone had gathered at the kitchen table around a round butter-cream frosted cake. Jack insisted on candles, but the only ones they could find were from his last birthday, so there were ten single candles in a row followed by a large red number  _ 5 _ .

Their son jumped up and down, squealing once the candles were all lit. "Aren't you going to make a wish?" he asked his parents, "that's one of the best parts."

Peeta wrapped his arm around Katniss's waist and pulled her close to his side. "Nope," he said, "I've got everything I've ever wished for, right here."

Katniss stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. He'd echoed her thoughts precisely.

"Happy anniversary," she whispered, smiling up at her husband.

"Happy anniversary," Peeta replied. He was quiet for a minute in contemplation before speaking seriously, "I take that back- my wish is for another fifteen years times four to spend with you."

"But Dad, that's like… another sixty years. That'd make you a hundred, at least!" Hannah exclaimed. "That's a completely ridiculous number; aim lower."

Katniss was still laughing when she leaned her head on Peeta's shoulder, but together they managed to bend over the cake and blow out the row of crooked candles to the sound of applause.

  
  
  
  



	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EBG- Historical A/U prompt rated G  
> (for some reason, I had strong Katniss as Anne Shirley vibes on this one)
> 
> There is now a second part to this story in Chapter 15.

"You know, I don't understand how you managed to do this-" Peeta Mellark tosses the words over his shoulder, with an expression on his face that I would describe as mildly put upon. 

I could not say why. Peeta is undoubtedly not the one in a precarious position- that would be me. 

What can I say? I am a bit of a high-spirited young woman- always known for getting into scrapes and mischief, not usually of my own doing. Though, at nearly five and twenty, the word "young" cannot apply to me much longer. Gale Hawthorne, my good friend, likes to tease that I will soon be ready to put out to pasture myself; he finds that joke particularly humorous because of my father's profession as a sheep farmer.

While I maintain my precarious position on the tree branch, Peeta murmurs something under his breath, but I cannot hear his exact words- he did not direct them at me. 

I am beginning to wonder if he was annoyed by the summons to come to my rescue, although irritation of any sort seems odd coming from Peeta. I hadn't caught him yet in any state of genuine anger, not even that one occasion on his farm when I watched him get kicked between the legs by one of his rams. His calm, quiet persona is one of his many mysteries. 

Peeta's been in our county for nearly six months now; he arrived as a virtual stranger and took ownership of old Mr. Thread's farm that neighbor's my father's place. 

Being a young man, he thus opened himself up to a world of gossip, not the typical line of inquiry either, such as how he came to have ownership of an eighty-acre sheep farm at such a tender age. Most of the discussion surrounding Peeta was on the topic of his wavy blond hair and broad shoulders, and his eyes, which are as blue as the lake in the middle of summer. Above all, conversation surrounded his lack of a romantic partner and what that could mean for our community's unmarried ladies. 

In fact, since his arrival, Peeta's been the most-talked-about bachelor since that fey Irishman Finnick Odair, who snuck away in the middle of the night with Annie Cresta, the daughter of the vicar. The pair eloped and afterward was the village's talk for many weeks. 

It was not long after their marriage that he left our village to become a fisherman. The new couple moved to the coast, and I'm told by those who've seen them of late that the Odairs have a beautiful bronze-haired baby boy now.

But I digress- back to Peeta Mellark; I must admit he is very likable, and a handsome man to boot. He will have no troubles in his search for a wife when that time comes. I will be sad to see that day come; I have formed a deep affection for him that I surely must let go of once he finds a wife. The thought of Peeta marrying pains me, although I cannot say why.

Regardless of all those thoughts of marriage, I am rather grateful to him despite his current grumpy countenance. I don't know if I would ever admit to such a thing- he already likes to joke with me too much. 

I think Peeta Mellark's greatest joy in life is to tie my tongue up between my lips. I must admit that I don't mind his teasing too much- he is too gentle of a man to ever be cruel in it. 

He is coming to my rescue- courtesy of Prim, that conviving sibling of mine who is currently nowhere in sight. She has never been one to pass up an opportunity to meddle in my business. Prim has been after me for months now, repeatedly saying that it has not gone unnoticed the way I have turned Peeta's eye and that the village girls are quite jealous of me.

Balderdash! What would a man like Peeta find about me to be to his liking? I'm too wild by half; no sane man would wish to marry me. It's pure foolishness when there are dozens of prettier, more wifely girls available in the village. He regards me as a friendly companion, and that is all there is to it.

Above the particular limb, beneath which Peeta is trying to get his wagon situated, is my straw bonnet, firmly stuck in the tree. My hat's particular indignity of being stuck in there is woeful enough without the added misery of my head's firm ensconcement inside its woven-straw prison. 

I am entirely stuck- neither my head nor hat will budge, no matter how much I struggle against my confinement. And I  _ have _ struggled, but it's all been in vain. A sharp stick must have impaled itself through both the straw brim and my braided updo at the same time. Fortunately for my neck, which I would prefer not to break today, the limb below where I sit keeps me in place for now. 

"It is a tremendously dull story, really," I reply, hoping to maintain the breezy tone of voice I was trying to affect. While both of my feet remain dangling from the trunk beneath my bottom, keeping my dignity is no easy task. 

Peeta laughs, and the sound makes me feel a little lighter. "I very much doubt that- nothing is ever dull with you, Ms. Everdeen."

"You're correct- my comings and goings are rarely dull," I admit with a resigned sigh. It was no use pretending otherwise; everyone is aware of the scrapes in which I am often involved.

If I were at home in my breeches and my boots, this particular incident would never have happened. It is much easier to move about freely- this foolish style of dress encumbers me. 

Also, if my sister's orange demon-feline were not so horrendous in the first place- not to mention if Prim had left him home today instead of smuggling him inside her spare basket, this wouldn't have happened. 

Bring him along she did, very unwisely, I might add, to today's church picnic, and then erred further by leaving him plenty of opportunities to escape the confines of his basket and hightail it for the tallest tree in the churchyard. 

If it weren't for any of those things, my feet would still be firmly on the ground as they should with my shoes' soles kissing the earth. 

After a flurry of movement on the ground, Peeta is climbing the tree to dislodge me, aided by a leg up on his wagon. He is not such a good climber as I, he has admitted to me on more than one occasion. Still, he climbs, and it is not long before he is making his way across the branch towards me.

Once he reaches my side, I can see that all traces of his earlier irritation are gone, replaced by the glee in his eyes. I shall not be so lucky to go without some teasing remark, though. As I have said, I do not mind.

"What am I going to do with you, Ms. Everdeen?" Peeta asks, his eyes skating across my face. 

His eyes catch mine, steady and true, and warmth fills my chest. I am delighted to see him, so I cannot keep the smile from my lips as I reply. "I do not know. I would say that you should put me somewhere safe, but I do not know that such a place exists." 

"Safe from you? I should have to agree." Peeta holds my gaze. In just a moment, he should be able to get me loose. "Are you quite alright- are you in any pain?" he asks, his hand going to my hat.

I shake my head- well, as much as I can move while it is held in place by the sharp stick in my hair and hat, that is. "No, I am as comfortable as one can be while stuck."

"Good." He moves closer to get a good look at the situation involving my hair, hat, and the sharp stick. "Ms. Everdeen, may I ask you something while we are alone?" he asks after what is quite a prolonged silence for such a talkative man. I thought he was taking an inordinately long time.

"Certainly," I answer, realizing that my heart is doing an odd thing inside my chest at his proximity. I feel a tug on my hair then, indicating to me that he is pulling the stick out of it. My eyes close when his hand goes to my head to keep the hat in place and dull the tugging sensation at my roots.

"Would you allow me to court you?" Peeta asks- his eyes on my hair. He seems apprehensive. "It's just that I care for you a great deal. You must know that, Ms. Everdeen."

"Court me- you wish to court me," I answer dumbly, my brain a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. 

Peeta wishes to court me- he wants to be my beau.

"Yes," he repeats himself quickly, "I would very much like to if you will allow it."

At that moment, I realize my head is free, so I look up at Peeta. The sun is behind him, and its glow illuminates his eyelashes, revealing their incredible length to me. 

What a funny thing that I have not noticed that until now. I have not been so aware of Peeta before now, but that has changed in an instant. He is a very wonderful man, both outwardly and in. 

And yes, I realize, I would like him to be my beau. Perhaps more? I think, sudden thoughts of living in his little stone cottage together filling my mind.

My breath catches in my throat at the loveliness his smile when I grin at him. His expression reinforces my newly realized knowledge that I care much for him. 

"I  _ will _ allow it," I answer, but quickly add on a disclaimer when he reaches to embrace me; I've spent enough time up in a tree for one day. "But only after we are safely on the ground."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompts Do You Need A Ride (make it Halloween) + I've Waited For This Moment For A Long Time.  
> Rated T for mentions of drinking alcohol. Featuring teenage Everlark (they are cute I love them)

Peeta ran a hand through his hair, tugging on the roots in frustration as Rye and those jerk-offs his brother called friends lept back in the car and slammed the doors shut behind them. 

This night had gone from what sounded like fun- a last-minute invitation to a Halloween party at Rye's college to "there's no way this could get any worse" faster than he would've thought possible. He'd tried his best to talk them out of leaving him alone on this deserted road on the outskirts of town, but trying to get any of them to see reason was useless. Their alcohol-soaked, collective idea of humor consisted of leaving the high school kid out on Halloween to fend for himself. In the middle of the night- in a freakin' costume. Although what he had on wasn't too bad, he supposed, looking down at himself. If he took the puffy vest off, he looked as though he had dressed pretty ordinarily tonight. He was just glad they hadn't talked him into wrapping a sheet around his groin and letting him go as a baby like they'd wanted to- yeesh.

Not to mention he currently had no way to call anyone for a ride, since that bastard Marvel had thrown his phone in the bushes back at home.

He really should've known better than to trust Rye- or his brother's friends, at least. It was apparent they were sharing one brain cell. 

"I'm such an idiot," Peeta muttered as the tires squealed against the pavement as they drove off. Once the Honda was out of sight, he vented his frustration even further by kicking an empty beer bottle across the road. It wasn't like there was any chance of it hitting an on-coming car- Rye had left his ass on the most remote, infrequently traveled road he could find.

Son of a bitch, Rye- he should've known better than to trust him.

Peeta started walking down the road in the direction of town. He wasn't too hopeful of his chances of finding someone out driving tonight, so he figured he'd better get moving. While not in a diaper fashioned from a sheet, it still wasn't as if he had dressed as warmly as he ought to be considering the air temperature and the weather. Peeta would say it was about forty degrees out tonight, and the air was chilly and damp, with thick bands of fog were hanging out over the top of the fields on either side of the road from him. And if he was honest with himself, and he might as well be since he was _alone,_ this was freaking him out a little. Not that he would admit that to anyone.

Fortunately, he hadn't walked very far when he noticed headlights approaching him from behind. He stopped in his tracks and turned to watch the vehicle as it slowed to a stop on the road beside him. The car was an old one from the '80s, but as much as he could make out in the dark, it was in good shape, one of those with long bodies but only two doors. He watched a little apprehensively as the passenger side window rolled down, hoping there wasn't a serial killer inside. 

Peeta let out an audible sigh of relief once he recognized the familiar face. 

It was Gale Hawthorne- and while they weren't exactly friends, they were friendly enough with each other that he didn't feel too weird about approaching the car. "Mellark-" Gale greeted him quickly, "do you have a ride home?"

Peeta huffed- he thought the answer to that question was obvious. If he hadn't been so relieved to see a recognizable face, one he didn't want to take the chance of pissing off, he'd have made some smart-ass comment. 

"Nope," he answered instead, "I could use one, though."

Gale turned his head to talk to the driver, whose identity Peeta couldn't quite make out in the dark. The two of them spoke quietly for a few minutes before Gale opened the door and climbed out. He surprised Peeta by getting into the back seat. "Catnip will give you a ride," he said, leaving the door open for him to get in.

_Catnip… did he mean Katniss?_

"I wish you would stop calling me that," Katniss growled at Gale, answering his question as he climbed into the car, his heart in his throat. 

Gale laughed without answering, and Peeta pulled the car door shut behind him. 

"Thank you for stopping," he said, hoping his voice didn't sound funny because she always made him feel that way whenever he was in her vicinity. 

As she took off again, he turned his head to look at her discreetly. Katniss was beautiful, but that was nothing out of the ordinary, even in jeans and a sweatshirt with her hair in a messy braid draped over one shoulder like she was right now, leaning against the driver's side door as she drove. He hoped he wasn't making her uncomfortable.

Katniss shrugged but didn't seem upset. "You should thank Gale- he was the one who told me I should stop."

"Yeah, Catnip would've left your ass on the side of the road if it hadn't been for me," Gale told him from the back seat.

Peeta felt his confidence deflate a little as he watched a scowl form in Katniss's face, but quickly shook it off; he wasn't exactly a guy who overthought things- he was just glad not to be walking home anymore. Getting the chance to talk to the girl he'd been crushing on since kindergarten was a bonus. Maybe he could change her mind about him, so she wasn't frowning at the mention of his name anymore.

Yeah, there's been that one incident from grade school. Peeta always meant to talk to her again after riding his bike to her house and leaving some groceries on the porch after her dad died- he'd heard her admit she didn't have anything for lunch for a solid week. Peeta had wanted to work up the nerve to talk to her after that, but he never could. Katniss had ignored him ever since. 

Who knew- maybe he'd mishandled the situation so that she wanted nothing to do with him now?

"Shut up," Katniss told Gale, glaring at him in the rearview mirror before her eyes went back to the road again.

He just laughed.

"Either way, thanks," Peeta reiterated, leaning against the seat. He stole one more glance at her face before turning his head forward. 

He told himself to play it cool.

"You're welcome," Katniss muttered. The car began slowing down then, and she flipped on the turn signal as she approached one of the side roads before turning down an even narrower road than the one they were on. The way they were heading wouldn't get them into town.

Katniss drove a little further before slowing to a stop and turning into a driveway. She put the car into park before facing Peeta again. "You need to let Gale out," she said quietly, glancing at him quickly before letting her eyes flit away once again.

Peeta didn't hesitate to climb out of the car and hold the seat back for Gale to get out after him.

"Tell Johanna I said hi," Katniss said once Gale was out of the car, and Peeta sat back down.

"Will do," Gale said, before turning and walking towards the house. 

Katniss backed out of the driveway without waiting to see if he made it inside the house.

"Johanna- is that his girlfriend?" Peeta asked to fill the silence of the car now that he was alone with her. His heart was racing.

Katniss was silent a minute, and he looked over to catch her biting her lip. 

He felt himself grinning broadly. 

She snorted a little before shaking her head in a negative answer. "I don't know what you'd call this arrangement tonight, but no, they do not exclusively see each other. Tonight was a booty call, I'm pretty sure," she admitted.

Peeta felt a laugh sneak out. "Interesting," he said, and she nodded in agreement. "And you got stuck driving him out here?"

"I owed him a favor," she admitted, slowing to a stop before turning on the signal to go back out on the main road. 

"Nice car," Peeta said a minute later. He was beginning to relax a little, and Katniss seemed that way too.

"Thanks, it used to be my great-aunt Effie's car. The only place she drove it was to get her hair done once a week, so that's why it's like new, even though it's almost as old as my mom." Katniss glanced over at him. "What's up with the vest?" She asked curiously.

Peeta grinned and held up a finger. "Wait a minute," he told her, before pulling a pair of aviator glasses out of his pocket and putting them on his face. "I'm Marty McFly," he told her, wondering if she'd get the reference. Not everyone was a Back To The Future fan- it was a pretty old movie.

She grinned. "Why are you Marty McFly, though?"

Peeta sighed as he took the glasses off so he could see her again in the dark. This part was embarrassing, but what the heck- he had no pride to lose at this point. "My brother claimed he was taking me to a Halloween party and then dumped me out in the country without my phone."

"That's terrible!" Katniss exclaimed like she was trying to sound sympathetic but couldn't entirely hide the humor in her voice.

He shrugged. "Yeah, Rye's a pretty big asshole."

"Sounds like it," she agreed. 

They drove in silence for a few minutes while Peeta worked up the nerve to say what he wanted. Finally, when the lights of Panem were visible, he said it. "So, I don't have my phone, but I do have my wallet. Do you want to go somewhere- maybe let me buy you dinner for picking my sorry ass up?"

Peeta watched with bated breath as she bit her lip. _Please don't say no, please don't say no._

"The only thing open is Denny's, I think," Katniss told him, glancing at the dashboard clock to check the time, "it's pretty late."

"I like Denny's," Peeta answered quickly.

She laughed. "I wouldn't say I like it, but it's edible."

"Okay, then. It's a date- err, not really, I guess."

Katniss glanced over at him and laughed. "If Denny's is where you take a girl on her first date, then I'll admit I'm not in a hurry to go on one with you."

Peeta felt his face heat up. "I mean, that's probably fair," he admitted, ecstatic even though he was a little embarrassed.

She snorted. 

A moment later, they were turning into the restaurant parking lot.

  
  
  
  


* * *

Peeta stepped in front of Katniss, holding the door open to let her go into the restaurant ahead of him. She gave him a funny look, but he just shrugged. 

"Sorry, old habit," he admitted, following her inside, "my dad always insisted we do that for girls."

"Don't apologize, it's a nice touch, Mellark," Katniss said.

It was late, but the bars hadn't closed yet, which meant the diner was mostly empty. 

There was an older couple decked out in leather (the motorcycle kind of leather, not the sort that looked like they'd stepped out of a BDSM flick), sitting in a corner booth. Also, a guy with long, greasy-looking black hair sat on a stool at the counter with his elbows propped there, talking to a waitress. 

If Peeta had to take a wild guess at what the two at that counter was discussing, he'd go with conspiracy theories, he decided.

Being the day before Halloween for a few more minutes at least, Peeta realized as he looked at the clock on the wall- it was almost midnight, the restaurant had an assortment of cheap-looking Halloween decorations up. 

There were rubber bats suspended from the ceiling, cutout MGM Monsters taped to the walls, and corrugated paper pumpkins on about half of the tables.

" Booth or table?" the redheaded waitress asked, grabbing two menus out of the pocket near the register. She paused a minute, cracking her gum as her eyes drifted up and down Peeta's body. He smiled at Lavina (at least who her name tag identified her as) politely, and she winked at him. "Nice get-up, kid." 

" Booth," Katniss said abruptly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Can it be that one in the far corner?"

"Sure," Lavina said, "follow me, kids."

Peeta chuckled under his breath as they followed her, while Katniss scowled at him. "You don't mind getting called a kid?" she whispered harshly, "I hate when people do that."

"No, I guess not. It's better than feeling like you're getting ogled, anyway," Peeta answered, barely keeping himself from visibility cringing.

He had no idea what possessed him to say something that sounded so stupid to Katniss, making it sound like he thought women everywhere were obsessed with him or something.

God- maybe he'd been spending too much time with Rye lately- that's precisely the kind of dumb shit his brother would say to a girl. He realized once again how amazingly fortunate it was that his brother and his idiot friends had dumped him out on the side of the road.

Katniss snorted as she slid into her side of the booth. Peeta sat across from her, and once Lavinia had left their menus on the table and taken their drink orders, she spoke, her eyes following the waitress across the room.

"Does that mean you get ogled by lots of waitresses, Peeta?" she said finally, unfolding and glancing down at her menu.

Peeta let out a breath- at least she hadn't taken what he said too seriously. "Sometimes, yeah," he said, jokingly.

When Katniss rolled her eyes at him, he winked at her.

She shook her head, but at least she was chuckling a little at least as she looked at the menu again, so she must not have been too bothered by his dumb comment.

"What can I say," Peeta continued, egging her on because god only knew why he couldn't just shut up and say something sane in front of Katniss, "redheaded waitresses have a thing for-"

"Here's your coke," Lavinia said, interrupting him with a stern look as she set his drink on the table, "and here's your chocolate milk, honey." 

Katniss snickered, biting her lip to keep from laughing from the other side end of the booth.

They gave Lavinia their orders- Katniss got chocolate chip pancakes while Peeta ordered MoonsOverMyHammy, and once she left again, he resumed teasing Katniss.

"I'm pretty sure I overheard Lavinia tell her coworkers," he started in again, "see that not very tall, mop-headed, kind of chunky blond kid over there-"

"You are not chunky Peeta, oh my _god,_ stop it-" Katniss said, laughing at him, "just stop."

"No, seriously, and stop interrupting Everdeen-" 

Katniss's eye roll that time would have frozen a lesser man in his tracks, but Peeta forged onward. He wanted to see if he could get her to laugh all night. That way, if she chose to ignore him after this, he would at least have his memories of this night to keep him warm. "So anyway, Lavinia told this other waitress, "I've waited for this moment for a long time, he's everything I've ever dreamed of- an unemployed high school kid who technically isn't ugly."

Peeta listened to Katniss groan as she tried to stop laughing, and wondered if she knew he'd waited for this moment for a very long time- just for the chance to be alone with her.

"You are funny, Peeta," she said. After studying him for a moment, she admitted- "I'm glad you were abandoned on a country road, dressed as Marty McFly like some weirdo- this is fun. And I've always wanted to talk to you since fifth grade-"

She had to mean that time he'd left the groceries at her house, he realized but chose to keep silent and let her talk.

"-But I've felt kind of weird about it."

Peeta hoped he wasn't too forward as he reached across the table and took the hand she'd been nervously tapping against the table in a friendly gesture. He wrapped his fingers around hers and squeezed gently before dropping it again. 

"I'm glad too," he reassured her in what had to be the year's understatement. "Now, I can ask you the deep questions I've always wanted to."

Katniss sat back in the booth, her cheeks pink. She looked a little nervous.

Peeta schooled his face into as serious an expression as he could before starting in. "Chocolate chip pancakes? When you could've had any one of the Grand Slams? Seriously, you didn't have to go with pancakes- you could've even gotten the steak platter."

That moment any tenseness left in Katniss's expression dropped away. At the same time, she explained to Peeta that she _liked_ chocolate chip pancakes, and a sirloin steak from Denny's didn't sound that appetizing, all the while trying not to laugh at him again. 

He claimed it as a victory.

Best night of his life so far, easily.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a weird little sci-fi drabble I posted on Tumblr. Rated T

”Katniss...”

At the sound of her husband calling her name, Katniss looked up from the book she’d spent the last hour or so trying to immerse herself in to pass the time. The story hadn’t been a particularly interesting one, so it hadn’t been doing its job.

Nothing much worked as a distraction of late anyway- that would have taken a miracle. She could not lay the fault at the feet of the book.

Katniss set the novel down on the end table and gave him her undivided attention.

“May I join you?” Cato asked solicitously.

She narrowed her eyes a minuscule amount, hardly even a detectable movement, really. Knowing more than most, it was impossible to refuse a command from the man; she shifted the voluminous skirts of the gown she was expected to wear daily (said garments making her look like some ancient antebellum nightmare) to the side so that he could sit next to her on the divan.

Once settled, Cato propped his elbows on his knees and rested his face between his hands. He heaved out a great sigh.

“What is it, husband?” Katniss asked, edging away from him. She felt almost suffocated by his shared presence on the seat.

She hated nothing more than theses moments when Cato kept her waiting.

Anything passing his lips could be dangerous, but especially when he came to see her after leaving The Works, the giant factory in the center of the labor camp where the native population of this planet toiled for a pittance wage.

She knew for certain The Works was where he’d come directly to her from today- her sources kept track of his every movement he made here on Planet Twelve. A crucial mistake on her behalf could be fatal not only to her plan of escaping from her husband but even more so to the resistance’s grand design of taking their planet back from Earth’s invaders.

And they were both so close to their singular yet shared goals.

These agonizing seconds of waiting on the chance that Cato might let slip important or devastating information to the cause was somehow worse than the moments he’d laid his repulsive hands on her for marital relations. Those occasions had been an uncomfortable, sickening invasion.

But at least in the dark beneath his oppressive weight, she could go to her own mental plain far from her current reality. And when Cato was busy using _her_ body, she didn’t have to worry about the others she loved being subjected to his reign of terror.

Of late, she’d had a reprieve from Cato’s attention. It was a relief to know he was taking his pleasures elsewhere.

He would never have her again if things went according to plan.

Cato dropped his hands away from his face finally. He rested his hands firmly on his knees so that he could angle his body towards her.

His face twisted in what she supposed would be considered a smile, but it held no warmth- just a perfunctory motion of lips pulling back to reveal almost fluorescent-like teeth.

“Just a little trouble at The Works. Some workers needed to be set down a peg or two, that is all,” Cato said easily, with what may have been affected boredom, “but do not fret my pet, the goings-on there are of no importance to you. Your only duty is to remain comfortable and to nourish my growing son.”

“Or girl- it could be a girl,” Katniss corrected her husband once his eyes had dropped to her protruding belly.

She willed herself not to shudder in repulsion at his proximity and the ownership in his eyes. If he only knew. She could breathe easier, for now, knowing her secret was still safe.

_The creature is staring at me again, mamma-_ the voice of the child growing in her womb, the one who most certainly did not belong to her husband but instead was a symbol of the love between herself and her “alien” lover Peeta, spoke to her telepathically- _and I don’t like him. Make him leave, please, mamma. I only want my papa here._

_Soon_ , Katniss answered her unborn daughter in kind, resting a hand over the swell and reassuring the babe. _We will be rid of him soon_.

Cato stood a moment later after looking his full of Katniss’s swollen form. The silence that stretched far and wide between them on every occasion they spent in each other’s presence became too overbearing as it always did.

Katniss watched him once his back was turned, her features schooled in loathing- an expression more indicative of her true feelings for her husband.

He disappeared into his dressing room, where he would soon meet up with his valet to prepare for the evening. Tonight he was hosting a state dinner for the visiting Capitol Generals from Earth, a group of horrible, reprehensible examples of humanity.

Consequently, tonight was also when the rebellion was to begin. The native workers were ready to move forward with the plan to take back their home now that they (with help from her, she was proud to say) had finally managed to secure a load of black-market weapons. Tonight they would arm their citizens and begin to move against the colonizers who’d invaded their planet.

“Oh, and Katniss?” Cato called to her from the next room in an odd tone, one that made her reach under the cushion and lay her hand on the slim, wickedly sharp knife resting beneath it.

“Yes?” She answered her tone calm despite the adrenaline racing through her veins.

“I found those medical papers in your room... why didn’t you tell me?” Cato replied, walking back into the room with thunder in his expression.

She stared silently while he waved the physical evidence in the air, the confirmation that he was not her child’s father.

Katniss thought she’d done a good enough job of hiding those from him. Stupid girl- she should have burned them while she had the chance.

But it was too late for regrets now.

“When were you going to tell me?!” He raged.

_It’s time mamma_ , the baby told her as Cato slowly approached with murder in his eyes.

It was time- all other options were gone. The only thing she could hope for now was for her and her unborn daughter to make it out of this room alive.

Katniss tightened her grip on the handle of the knife, ready to spring and attack.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a little silly married Everlark, just a short drabble rated T for sexual innuendo

“Will you get this for me? I can’t quite do it,” Katniss asked, trying and failing to reach the zipper behind her back.

“Of course,” Peeta told her, stepping behind her to help once he’d tossed his suit coat and tie on the bed, glad to be rid of them.

Neither of them enjoyed dressing up particularly, but they’d just made it back home after his brother’s wedding. They were both more than ready to call it a night.

He wished he wasn’t so tired and that it wasn’t so late. It was the first time they’d left their infant daughter with Katniss’s folks overnight- the first real chance they’d had to be completely alone in months.

Some part of him felt like they were wasting the opportunity presented to them; Peeta figured they ought to be doing something wild like having sex on the kitchen table like they used to do instead of both of them feeling completely exhausted and ready to drop any minute.

Peeta lifted the heavy rope of his wife’s dark hair, tucking it over her shoulder before placing one hand on her shoulder and slowly tugging the delicate zipper down the seam of her dress with the other. He knew to be extra careful with the material - the dress was on loan to Katniss from their friend Cinna, and they’d promised to return the jet-beaded garment to him in one piece. It was one of the most expensive gowns in his vintage store.

“Thank you,” she breathed out once the back of the dress was opened, “it was getting a little restrictive in there after all those appetizers I ate.”

“Welcome,” he said easily, kissing the spot where her shoulder blades met and smiling when he felt her shiver.

Maybe he wasn’t so tired after all.

But what about her?

“This is what you keep me around for, isn’t it?” Peeta teased.

“Among other things,” she said drily, stepping away from him.

While Peeta moved to dig around in his dresser drawer for a pair of pajamas, Katniss sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off her heels, first from one foot and then the other.

She rubbed the soles of her feet, grimacing the entire time. “I was not meant for this torture,” she complained.

“I know, babe,” he said, laughing as he started unbuttoning his shirt and turning away from her in the process.

_Maybe he could talk her into a quickie at least…_

“But you never told me,” Katniss continued from behind him, “what do you think?”

Peeta shrugged the shirt off his shoulders in silence. He was stalling for sure now because try as he might, he couldn’t remember what exactly it was they’d talked about earlier that she wanted his opinion on now. Most of his brain had shifted to sex.

He heard the dress drop to the floor behind him and turned around to catch a glimpse of her.

Peeta wasn’t exactly prepared to see her bent over to pick up the dress, posed before him in nothing but what had to be the most ridiculously tiny pair of underwear he’d ever seen. Bandaids would have covered more.

Katniss straightened, taking away the clear view of her beautiful bottom and those ridiculous panties. She placed her hands on her hips, shrugging as if he wasn’t supposed to be completely distracted by her.

“Well?” She prodded.

Peeta couldn’t help but notice the way her breasts rose and fell when she exhaled. “I’m sorry,” he asked, “what were we talking about?”

Katniss sighed- a loud, affected noise. “Never mind,” she said as she moved to stroll out of the room casually. “It’s nothing important.”

Peeta watched as she disappeared through the doorway into the dark hall.

“Well, are you meeting me in the kitchen or what?” She asked, her voice tinged with humor as she moved further away from him.

“Hell, yes, I am,” he muttered before trailing after her. “Wait up!”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated G (?) drabble prompts "I love you, please don't go" and "I am home", Peeta's pov

“But I don’t understand why?” I asked, following a discrete distance behind Katniss. 

She stomped out of her bedroom, through a mess of what I’d swear contained every item of clothing she owned- things she’d claimed to be packing when I checked in on her a few minutes ago. There was no rhyme or reason to the chaos. When I asked why she was leaving, she became even more agitated- apparently, she was in no frame of mind to answer any questions.

If she only knew why I couldn’t agree with her sudden relocation plans. “Explain to me, Katniss- why it is exactly that you think you need to move out and go back home now?” I went on, frowning in bewilderment at the back of her head.

“What isn’t there to understand,” Katniss's words came from a place of deep betrayal and rage that seemed to be bubbling out of her. Despite the snappish way she was speaking to me, I knew I wasn’t the cause of her anger- I knew what had happened and why she was so upset. Unfortunately for me, I just happened to be getting the brunt of it. “What's left for me after all this?”

I stared at her, unsure of what to say for what had to be the first time in my life. There was always the truth, but I didn't know if she was ready to hear that or not.

I get her anger- I do. Her feelings were hurt. Gale and Madge could’ve said something to her before she found out they were together- they had to have known she would find out eventually. And find out Katniss did, walking in on them in Madge’s room this morning, half-naked and preparing to get undressed the rest of the way, at least according to her account of what happened that morning. While I understand Katniss's hurt feelings, she needs to realize what happened between her ex-boyfriend and her childhood friend wasn't some major betrayal. She and Gale called it quits almost a year ago, right around the time I moved into the third bedroom here, and they’ve mostly been on friendly terms with each other since.

I watched as Katniss sat on the back of the sofa, shaking her head. “This is just the last straw, Peeta. First, Gale and I break up, which was fine-” She sounded as though it _was_ fine, although her behavior told me a different story. I wasn’t sure which version I should believe, though, her words or her actions. “And then I go and lose my job,” she continued, referencing the office position she’d lost due to downsizing a month ago. 

I know that was a blow to her as well. Things have been a lot for her lately.

“But I’m sure you’ll hear something from one of the other places you applied to soon,” I reassured her, rubbing the back of my neck the way I do when I’m nervous. There was so much on the line; if she moved out, I felt like I’d never see her again. She would distance herself from Madge as long as she was with Gale, and that would mean distancing herself from me too since I live here.

Katniss ignored me, going on- “And now, Madge. I just,” she sighed, straightening up, “I feel like there’s no reason for me to stay here now. You know, it’s like- what’s left here in the city for me? Our lease is up soon; I might as well go back home and see what I can find there- at least I can save some money while I stay with my mom.” And with those crushing words, I realized she didn't consider me incentive enough to keep living in the city for even a single damn minute.

Her old buddy Peeta was good enough to be there for moral support, but not enough for her to stick around for- at least not through some discomfort and embarrassment courtesy of her ex and our other roommate. I should be used to this, I realized, as her bedroom door shut in my face. It was the story of my life.

“What about this for a reason,” I whispered, pressed my forehead against her bedroom door miserably, wishing she'd given me a reason to feel like I could say the words to her face. “I love you, please don’t go.”

* * *

I stepped away from her door, realizing no matter how awful I was feeling, I shouldn't hang out there all night like the lovesick fool that I was. I'd already turned my back to the door when I heard it open behind me, so I paused.

“Peeta- did you say something?” Katniss asked, her voice soft.

I gave half a second’s thought to confessing everything to her right there with my back turned. Instead, I shook my head in a decisive _no_ to her question. There was no need to repeat the words because she already gave me the answer to what I’d questioned for a long time; what exactly I meant to her, and did she see me as more than a friend? And I felt like a jerk. Here I was feeling sorry for myself when deep down, I knew Katniss was looking out for her best interests, and I couldn't be upset with her over that. That's all I want for her- to be happy, with or without me.

I would snap out of my sulky behavior soon enough, I knew. I couldn't be here right now. Sure I could say something now, tell her I think I’ve been in love with her since the first day we met, but what good would it do? Any confession of mine would make things painfully awkward between us. I don’t want her to pity or think less of me, so I prefer it if she doesn’t know anything at all. My heart is breaking, but at least my pride gets to remain intact. 

A terse silence formed between us. I almost walked away from her to get relief from the overwhelming ache growing inside my chest. Then Katniss let out a sigh, and it stopped my movement, so I turned around and looked at her.

She was leaning against the doorway of her room, her expression tense. She was slouching as if the fight had gone out of her. Her eyes were shiny; it looked like she was fighting back the tears. Watching Katniss, I was angry with myself for even thinking about abandoning her for my own self-perseveration. That’s not what a friend did, and despite the way I love her, I’m her friend first.

“It’s just,” she began in that halting way of hers, “Peeta, I hate eating my words. But what I said earlier, about there being no reason for me to stay? That was awful.” Katniss shook her head like she was trying to get the words in order in her mind. “That wasn’t a great thing to say to you.” Just like that, my frustration melted away in the face of her apology. When she stepped towards me a moment later, I held my arms out for her without hesitation. With her, I’m right where I belong. Katniss wrapped her arms around me, laying her head on my chest. My eyes slid shut at the exquisite feeling of holding her again. “I feel like my life is burning down around me,” she mumbled in a quiet admission. “And I don’t know what to do. Nothing has gone the right way lately.”

“You’ll figure it out,” I told her, meaning every word. “Things have a way of working themselves out, you know. Whatever you decide to do, I’ll be there for you.”

Katniss remained in the circle of my arms a little longer before stepping back and smiling up at me, a bit more sure of herself now. I was glad I’d given her some reassurance; it’s the one thing she’s consistently turned to me for. I like to think that I’m her rock.“Hey,” I asked, changing the subject. “Do you feel like getting out of here for a while? I think you could use a change of scenery. Let’s go get some pizza- I’ll buy, even.”

Her eyes lit up, and I wanted to laugh at the unadulterated joy the mention of her favorite food brought out of her. “Yeah,” she said, ”just let me grab my coat.”

”So, you think packing can wait?” I asked as she walked toward the closet.

Katniss shrugged. “I might’ve been a little hasty. I don’t think I need to make up my mind about moving tonight, do I?”

“No, you sure don’t,” I agreed, trying not to sound too relieved. There was still time.

  
  
  
  



	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated T, written for EBG. HISTORICAL/movie crossover a/u

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is part two of something I wrote for Everlarkbirthdaygifts a few months ago; this part is based on the 1952 John Wayne/Maureen O’Hara movie The Quiet Man, which is set in Ireland during the 1920s. 
> 
> The first part of this story is Chapter 10.
> 
> John Wayne plays a disgraced former boxer who moves to his family’s homeland for peace after accidentally killing a man in the ring. Maureen O’Hara is his tempestuous love interest. It’s a fun, beautiful, very romantic, and funny (she is a real hothead in the film, and they have great on-screen chemistry) movie that I highly recommend.

Ah-ah-ah,” Haymitch stops me in my tracks when he glances over his shoulder and locks eyes with me. The village drunk is certainly the laughing stock of this little sheep-farming bit of countryside where I’ve been living for the last six months, so I wait, fully expecting him to crack a joke and cut the tension suddenly formed between us. 

I wait, and Haymitch waits. He doesn’t smile- instead, he stares me down as if I were a thief flinching his best white liquor from his cabinet in the middle of the night and not a man in the middle of courting a young lady, trying to lift her down from the buggy.

I guess even Haymitch takes some responsibilities seriously. I just wished for my own sake it wasn’t  _ this _ particular responsibility. The confounding traditions these people have are outrageous enough on their own without his overbearing attitude. Back in the States, a guy could just pull up to a girl’s house, honk the horn, and wait for her to run out and meet him. 

A fella wouldn’t be forced to sit on opposite facing seats in this “courting buggy,” driven around the countryside by the town drunk, unable to carry on any real conversation with his girl.

Not that I would ever honk for a girl, at least not for Katniss Everdeen, anyway. She is small and beautiful and fiery and has the loveliest grey eyes I’ve ever seen. I might have enough sense not to pull up to her door and honk my horn (I’d have to have a car in this country to do such a thing, anyway), but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to spend a little time alone with her, now that I’m officially seeing her.

Damn it all; there is an honest to God twinkle in Haymitch’s eyes when he addresses me again, but only after I’ve dropped my hands away from Katniss’s waist and stepped away from her. “Mr. Mellark-”

“My name is Peeta if you please. My father was Mr. Mellark,” I remind Haymitch, crossing my arms over my chest and staring back at him. I’m much bigger and stronger than him (I’m bigger and stronger than most men actually, or I wouldn’t have had the boxing career I left behind in the States), but that doesn’t deter him the least.

“Ms. Everdeen is a fine, healthy girl,” he continues, leaning back in his seat and waving his hands at us, his expression knowing, “and she is quite able to climb out of the buggy by herself. So there’ll be no need for any patty-fingers there, Mr. Mellark.”

I frown up at Haymitch and his sly words. There were no, as he implied, patty-fingers involved. I was simply grasping Katniss’s waist to help her get down from her side of the buggy. I know she is an excellent climber; I did just dislodge her hair and hat from a tall tree limb last week in the middle of a disastrous rescue of her sister’s cat. 

All three of us are aware that we are doing today is simply an exercise in etiquette. 

Katniss and I have spent this evening, our first official “courting” outing, chauffeured down the local countryside’s winding roads. It’s so beautiful in spring’s palates of greens- 

(I love the beauty of this land. I don’t think I will ever tire of it- I’ve never seen such shades of green all my life. The land wasn’t like this back home in Chicago, but of course, when you grow up in an apartment above the family bakery, how is a fella to know what nature looks like? Sunday trips for a stroll around the park didn’t quite cut the mustard, either. 

Here, the surroundings are a feast for the eyes. Everything is colored in varying shades of green, rolling on for miles and miles: the trees, the pastures, the pretty dress that Katniss is wearing today. It goes so smartly with her straw hat, which, I can’t help but notice, is the same one I had to help her dislodge from a tree branch just last Sunday. This place is serene and peaceful, exactly why I chose to come back to my ancestral home after leaving the boxing ring behind.)

\- past neighbor’s farms, and stone fences as far as the eye could see. In his given role as one of the senior men (and the local drunk) in the village, Haymitch has driven Katniss and myself around. We are not to be alone together now that I am courting her- even though she has visited many times at my farm, alone, without any threat of ruination. The “courting” title is the only difference in any of it; I’ve wanted to kiss Katniss’s pert little mouth since the first time I laid eyes on her.

“Patty fingers?” I ask indignantly, although I do drop my hands from Katniss’s waist. A scowl forms on her lovely face, wrinkling her nose adorably.

“Quit your fussin’, boy. Now what I’m doing here, well, this is a good stretch of the road leading into town. I’ll let you do about a mile or so on your own; give you a chance to see how you feel walking together. I’ll be right behind you, so no funny business,” he directs. I move to put my hand on the small of Katniss’s back but am quickly tut-tutted by Haymitch. “Patty fingers!”

Katniss’s and my eyes meet, and she rolls her eyes at Haymitch’s evident enthusiasm for his task. 

Ha- see if I’m eager to buy him another pint at the pub!

Instead of speaking, we walk close beside each other, not touching- the only sound the click of her low heels on the packed-dirt road. Once there is some distance between us and the buggy, I hear Haymitch make a clicking sound at the horses and snap the reins, and soon he is moving down the road, following us again. 

At least this time, Haymitch is keeping a little distance- I know he is giving us some room to speak with each other, but I cannot think of a single thing to say to Katniss with an audience. We continue in silence, neither of us anxious to speak, which is unusual because I am quite the talker. Katniss, while not overly verbose, is rarely short of things to remark upon when she is alone with me.

Finally, I open my mouth. “You look lovely today, Katniss,” I say, admiring her because it is the truth, and you can never go wrong telling your girl she is lovely to you.

Her eyes skate over my frame quickly before she faces forward again. “Is that your best suit you’re wearing today, Peeta Mellark?” she asks, a grin forming at the corner of her mouth.

I smile at my full name crossing her lips; it reminds me of a prim schoolmistress- I like it very much. “Yes, it is my best suit, Katniss Everdeen,” I answer in kind. “Do I pass muster?”

Katniss’s eyes slide to the side; I catch her watching me. “It does look quite fine on you,” she says softly, glancing forward again.

I hear the buggy come to a halt behind us as Haymitch stops to speak to the vicar, so we stop in the road as well. Katniss faces me, and when our eyes lock, I have an overwhelming desire to be alone with her, talk with her, make her laugh, and maybe earn a chaste kiss. I want to know everything there is to know about Katniss Everdeen, and I cannot do any of those things with our chaperone in tow. 

Although I would never say time spent with her is a waste, I am mourning the freedom of those evenings she would visit me at my farm, when we were alone to talk, even if it was only in the manner that friends do.

I sigh.

Katniss shrugs her shoulders. “This is quite ridiculous, isn’t it?” she bites back a smile. I think she’s growing as tired of the proprieties as I am.

“It is.” I agree. Neither Katniss nor I are youths needing looking after. I just passed my 26th birthday, and she is only a year younger than I am. Considering what I’ve been through in those short years, it’s been much longer than one would think since I’ve felt like a boy.

I catch sight of something then- a two-seater bicycle, leaning against the side of the pub, and it gives me an idea. “Can you ride?” I ask, nodding discreetly at the tandem. Katniss glances over her shoulder then, and so do I. 

Haymitch remains in conversation with the vicar.

In unison, Katniss and I take off in a dead sprint for the tandem. Reaching it, I hop on the back of the two-seater bicycle, and she climbs onto the seat in front of me. Moments later, the two of us are riding the bike through the village on our escape route out of town, all to the sounds of Haymitch bellering indiscernibly behind us.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Everlarkbirthdaygifts. Older! Peeta. Meet/cute.

“I shouldn’t be very long,” I tell Madge, standing in front of my apartment doorway as I fidget with the purse strap hanging over my shoulder. I have a parent-teacher conference tonight at Prim’s school, and since I can’t take her with me, Madge will stay here while I’m gone. “Just make sure to lock the door when I leave- I’ll call you when I get back so you can unlock it for me.” I really should get a key made for her; she’s here so much.

Madge shrugs, tipping her smooth blond head to the side, leaning her shoulder against the doorway of the apartment I share with my sister. 

I appreciate my best friend’s help- I’ve had to rely on her to help me with Prim quite a bit lately; bless her, she never complains. 

“It doesn’t matter when you get back. Primmy and I have a full schedule for the night, don’t we?” she says as my sister appears in the doorway behind her with her twin blond braids hanging down her back. I swear the two of them look more alike than Prim and I ever will, but we are only half-sisters; Prim’s the product of my Mom’s second marriage. 

“We’re going to give each other pedicures,” Madge continues. “In fact, why don’t you go out and do something by yourself while you’re gone? Go window shopping- or maybe you’ll meet a cute single dad you can ask out for drinks.”

I frown at her. My best friend has been encouraging me to “get back into the dating game” for a while now, no matter how often I reiterate I’m not interested. My plate is more than full since we lost Mom and her husband a few years ago, leaving me as Prim’s sole guardian. 

Besides, my sister is only eight- she needs all of my attention right now, no matter how often she tries to tell me otherwise. 

Prim is just as bad as Madge the way she’s always saying I should find a guy. I know she’s hatched some sort of scheme to set me up with her new friend Kaylee’s dad. I’ve never met him but seeing as I’m twenty-two and the girls are eight; I imagine he’s way too old for me, even if I were interested in dating- which I am  _ not _ .

“Yep,” Prim agrees, grinning up at Madge, “we’ll be just fine. So go, you know, get you some or something.”

“Get you some or something?” I repeat, frowning at first Prim and then Madge, who is the most obvious culprit in the guessing game of _Who’s_ _Teaching_ _Prim_ _Adult_ _Expressions_. “You shouldn’t say things if you don’t know what they mean, Prim.”  
  


“I know what that means,” Prim rolls her eyes at me while I sputter in disbelief. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Don’t look at me!” Madge says when I glare at her, “I didn’t teach her anything. She’s just grown-up for her age, more than you were, Katniss. Now go-”

“And get me some?” I interrupt, eyes narrowed because I don’t trust Madge in this matter any further than I can throw her. 

“No, you’d better go, or you’re going to be late for your parent-teacher conference, silly,” Madge says.

She’s still laughing when she shuts the door in my face. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


There was no need for me to hurry because Ms. Trinket, Prim’s teacher, is still in a conference with another parent when I arrive at the school. I quickly realize she must be running even further behind that just with me because a man is waiting in the hallway as well. 

“Hi,” he says, smiling warmly at me from his place against the cinder-block wall. I don’t recognize him, but he has to be one of the parents I haven’t met yet.

“Hey,” I reply, studying him briefly, then looking away before it becomes apparent I’m doing it. The man is good-looking, one of those muscular, compact-looking guys who aren’t super-tall but aren’t short either. He’s got wavy blond hair and blue eyes, and if I were to wager a guess at how old he is, I’d probably say early to mid-thirties. 

“Who are you here for?” he asks conversationally, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t met a lot of the other parents yet.”

I shrug. I don’t usually make small-talk with men I don’t know, but he seems non-threatening. 

Still, I hold back a bit- he’s attractive in a way that seems inappropriate for some reason. I guess I worry that he’s married or something; I don’t want to be that person who’s flirting with someone’s husband or partner. 

Not that I’m flirting- I’m barely even talking to the guy, yeesh- way to overthink things, Katniss. “My sister is Prim Everdeen,” I explain, “I’m her guardian.”

“So you’re Katniss,” he says, eyes rounding in surprise- they’re kind of ridiculously blue and on the largeish side, so it’s a comical sight.

“That’s me.”

“I’m Kaylee’s dad- Peeta. Peeta Mellark.” He sticks out his hand for me to shake.

“Oh,” I answer. And then, like a nincompoop who’s caught off guard by this new information, and the fact that he’s trying to shake my hand, I go on- “you’re the one Prim is trying to set me up with.”

But instead of getting flustered (the way I am for saying something so dumb to an attractive, single man I just met and will probably see again after today), Peeta laughs, although he does drop his hand to his side. “So I wasn’t just imagining Kaylee talking up Prim’s sister then, huh?”

“Guess not. What, ah, what did your daughter say about me?”

Peeta smiles at me. “Just that you were young and pretty, and you’re a good sister to Prim.”

I feel myself blushing underneath his gaze. I wonder if he agrees with his daughter’s assessment of me. “I don’t know why they think they need to meddle in our lives, right?” I ask, trying to cover my embarrassment by keeping the conversation going.

“Because they love us, for some reason. I guess,” Peeta says. 

I have to smile at that. 

Behind us, the classroom door opens. Lavinia, one of the parents I know slightly, walks out of the room. I notice her studying Peeta for a moment, but when I say hello, she turns her attention to me as she leaves. 

Ms. Trinket appears in the doorway a moment later. “Sorry about the hold-up, Katniss. I’m ready for you now. Mr. Mellark,” she says, seemingly surprised to see him waiting in the hall as well, “what are you doing here now?”

Peeta looks confused. “My conference was scheduled for five, or at least I thought so. That’s what the paper Kaylee brought home said.”

“No, mine’s at five,” I say, “unless there was some kind of mistake.”

Ms. Trinket frowns at us both. “I’m not sure where the mix-up happened, but I don’t have you scheduled for today, Peeta. However, if you have time to wait, I can squeeze you in once I’m done with Katniss.”

He quickly agrees. “I’m already here, so if you don’t mind, I’ll just wait.”

“Sounds good. Are you ready, Katniss?” 

I follow Ms. Trinket into the room as Peeta pulls his cell out of his back pocket. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  


I walk out of the classroom about twenty minutes later, following a brief meeting. 

Thankfully, Ms. Trinket didn’t have any significant concerns about Prim this year. I knew my sister’s grades were pretty good, so I wasn’t concerned with that, but Ms. Trinket also backed-up my opinion that Prim’s been getting along well with most of the class. Despite everything she’s been through with losing our mom, it’s a relief to be reassured by someone else that my sister is doing okay. I worry all the time about whether or not I’m doing a good enough job with her- a little outside validation is more than welcome.

Peeta smiles at me when I glance his way. He’s still leaning against the cinderblock wall in the same position I left him in. 

Ms. Trinket asked me to let him know she was ready for him, so we have the hall to ourselves. 

“Get to the bottom of things?” I ask, slowing down to talk to him. 

I’d be lying if I said Peeta hadn’t crossed my mind once or twice while I was talking to Ms. Trinkett. He might be quite a bit older than me, but there’s something about him that draws me to him. He’s handsome, but the attraction isn’t just about his looks. I don’t know- maybe the way Prim has talked about “Kaylee’s dad” is influencing my decision, but there is just an innate kindness about him that piques my interest.

“Yeah,” he says, straightening up and running a hand through his hair. He sighs. “Kaylee confessed- she planned it with Prim. Look, I’m sorry. You’re a beautiful young woman, and I know I’m way too old for you-”

“No, you’re not,” I interrupt, surprising both him and myself. I’m not always good at speaking up, but it’s usually a doozy when I do. Peeta doesn’t say anything to refute me, though. 

It’s true; I don’t’ think he’s too old to pass up giving a shot. Peeta’s the first guy who’s interested me in a ridiculously long time, even if he’s at least ten years older than I am. I mean, most guys my age are pretty immature; they all seem to be looking out for themselves. That’s just not something I can get into at this point in my life- I can’t deal with immature boy drama and Prim. Peeta seems like he would be pretty drama-free, and he’s certainly not a boy.

His grin widens. “I’m not?”

I shake my head. “No, you’re not. Do I seem too young for you?”

“No,” Peeta admits quietly, “you don’t.”

I decide just to spit it out- a guy who’s worth anything has to like assertive women, and I’m not into playing games. “Do you want to go get coffee or something after your conference?”

He nods. “I’d love to.”

I know all of this is forward, but what harm can it do to get to know Peeta a little better? I’m not committing to anything, and If nothing else, I’ll make a friend, and Prim and his daughter can rest easy knowing we gave their plan a chance. Plus, I have a feeling our schedules were both cleared on purpose. 

I can’t help but think of Madge telling me I should go out and have a drink with a cute single dad. “She was in on it the whole time,” I say, laughing under my breath.

“What’s that?” Peeta asks.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Do you want to meet me at _The_ _Bean_ _Counter_ in half an hour?” I ask, naming the coffee shop a few blocks away from the elementary school.

“Sounds good,” he agrees. 

After a little awkward wave at each other, we part ways. Peeta goes into the classroom for his conference with Ms. Trinket, and I head out to my car. 

I can’t decide if I should call Madge to bawl her out for this or ask for advice on what to do. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date, even if it is just for coffee. 

Ultimately, I do neither. Madge and Prim told me not to worry about coming right back, so I don’t even call them to let them know I’ll be home late. I figure they can just sit and wonder what I’ve gotten into tonight.   
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just sticking some of my Tumblr drabbles over here- this is a short, non-hijacked Peeta in Thirteen fic

“Are you sure this is safe?” Peeta asked, trailing behind, his pace slower than hers due to his newly re-aligned prosthetic leg. The Capitol had never been exactly the most gracious of hosts while holding him prisoner at the old training center (the fading bruises and shorn hair and burn scars were further proof of that), and his stump had been left in such poor condition from weeks of neglect that the doctors in Thirteen had been forced to do surgery. They’d cleaned up the site before reattaching the metal limb. Peeta hadn’t quite adjusted yet.

Katniss probably shouldn’t have made him take the stairs, but when Peeta’s hand had started twitching in hers at breakfast this morning, she could sense the anxiety radiating off of him. And she understood it; she felt it too. Everywhere they went in Thirteen, they were watched. It was like everyone was expecting something from them- some type of performance. You could see the questions, the judgments, in so many eyes. Some still thought Peeta was a traitor, even though he’d warned them of the bombings and saved their lives.

Their eyes and the constant _watching_ was getting to Peeta, she knew. He hadn’t had time to process anything that’d happened to him yet. He’d barely adjusted to not being tortured on an almost hourly basis. He was like a nervous rabbit looking for a place to hide in safety.

Katniss knew that feeling intimately. She knew what it was to feel she needed to disappear.

So she decided to take Peeta somewhere where he could hide. With her. There was a nice supply closet waiting for their arrival, just one more floor up.

“No one ever finds me there,” Katniss reassured him. 

Peeta put one foot on the bottom step and looked up at her. 

It was a strange sensation to be looking down at him. He’d protected her so many times. She wasn’t strong, but she could be strong for him now. For a while, at least. It was kind of what they did for each other.

“It’s just one more floor up,” Katniss promised. She bent down, put one hand on his face, and kissed him gently. His body seemed to relax beneath her touch.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Tumblr shortie- Katniss, Prim, and Lady (with a mention of Peeta)

“Just don’t buy a goat. I don’t care what you do, just no goats.”

“Prim, what was the one thing we agreed on?” Katniss asked her sister, peering into the ancient delivery van's back seat, marked _**Trinket’s Floral Designs.**_ The vehicle drank oil the same way Uncle Haymitch guzzled bourbon, but the two of them had just recently taken over Aunt Effie’s flower shop and were still learning the ropes of the business while trying to figure out how to turn a profit. 

Effie wasn’t really even their aunt, she was actually Haymitch’s chain-smoking, rail-thin, perfectionist of an ex-wife, but she’d retired and left the business to the sisters. 

Family was what you made of it, and Katniss wouldn’t trade Effie for all the traditional families in the world; thank you very much.

The sisters had decided to start setting up at the farm market on the weekends to sell their looser, less-formal wildflower arrangements. While it had been a good idea, in theory, Prim, unfortunately, tended to spend whatever money they made on nonsense like beaded bracelets or feathered dream catchers, claiming she was just “supporting their local artisans.”

But this purchase was ridiculous. Unfathomable. They owned a freakin’ _flower_ _shop,_ for Pete’s sake. 

“Just don’t buy a goat. I don’t care what you do, just no goats,” Prim said sullenly, tugging on the lead tied around an animal who was very much a real, live goat, complete with a pink ribbon tied around her neck and a little silver bell.

“Prim, she’ll eat all our flowers!’ Katniss exclaimed.

“But Lady was free, and she really needed a good home. I couldn’t say no.”

Katniss scowled at her for a moment before she sighed resignedly. Prim always won, dammit.

Prim snapped her fingers and grinned, the little shit, before quickly handing her sister the goat’s lead and turning to go back to the front seat of the van. “I know what will cheer you up. I brought you some of those cheese buns you like.” Her back was turned, so she didn’t see the way Katniss’s eyes lit up at the mention of the words _cheese_ _buns_ , “oh, and Peeta said hi, by the way.”

“He did?” Katniss snatched the bag away and tried not to think about how cute the guy who ran the bakery booth was. His smile and broad shoulders were almost as delicious as his baked goods.

Almost.

“Yeah, and… promise you won’t be mad?” Prim asked, leaning back against the van, watching Katniss tear into the goodies.

“No, I won’t promise anything,” Katniss said around a mouthful of bread and cheese. “What did you do, Prim?”

“I may have…. given Peeta your phone number.”

And the worst part was, as Katniss stared at her sister in shock while Prim smirked and said something about “you two were just planning on dancing around each other forever, admit it!”, that damn goat snatched the rest of her bun right out of her fingers. 

She was really going to murder Prim. 

Or kiss her, if that cute baker actually called.

“Come on, Lady. Let’s find you some nice stems to munch on. You won’t last long around here stealing cheese buns.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another tumblr shortie, this was a story I wrote for Amazinglovers747 on yon tumblr. (she's mypeet1 on ao3)

Katniss glanced over her shoulder at the blond guy following behind her on his horse. When Peeta caught her eye, he smiled, and she quickly faced forward again. 

She really didn’t want to encourage him.

It was the second day of Fishcon, a retreat for Odesta fans in the mountains of North Carolina. Katniss had grudgingly agreed to bring her 18-year-old sister to the gathering after Prim had spent weeks begging and pleading with her.

Not that Katniss wasn’t an Odesta fan herself. The pairing of Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta, made famous by The Dehydration Games, was so epic that she couldn’t help but be swept up in it. 

While she loved the story, Katniss just wasn’t a fan of people in general. There were only a few people she had the emotional space for in her life, and socializing was her worst nightmare. She would’ve much rather stayed at home with her horses.

And then there was Peeta Mellark.

Peeta had become a problem shortly after her arrival at the mountain cabin when she had the distinct feeling that a pair of eyes were studying her. She looked up at their owner and took in an intense blue gaze belonging to a guy about her age with broad shoulders and wavy blond hair.

She’d felt relieved when he quickly looked away. Even with her epic lack of astuteness when it came to realizing that a guy was interested in her, it would’ve been impossible to misread the way his neck and ears turned a dark shade of pink as he quickly exited the room.

_Well, at least he’s too shy to talk to me,_ Katniss thought. _He’ll probably keep his distance._

No such luck- the situation quickly took a turn for the worse once introductions were made at the retreat's first sit-down session. After they all went around and made introductions- each person sharing a few details about themselves and where they were from, she found out that Peeta actually only lived about half an hour from her hometown. Katniss had to do some swift thinking to get out of the conversation. He tried to start with her once the session was over, and he was apparently ready to get over his bashfulness. 

There wasn’t anything wrong with Peeta per se; he just reminded Katniss too much of Delly Cartwright, the girl who was voted “Friendliest Friend” by their high school senior class and was the bane of her 18-year-old existence. Heck, Peeta even looked like Delly, and for a moment, she thought about asking if he had any cousins from Panem County.

Prim wasn’t helping matters - her sister had spent some time talking to Peeta and taken a liking to him. “You really ought to give him a chance. He’s so nice! Don’t you think he’s cute?”

“I guess he’s kind of cute, but that’s not the point. Nobody is that nice! I don’t trust him.”

“I’m that nice.” Prim countered, crossing her arms over her chest, daring her sister to contradict her. 

Dammit- she had a point there. When Katniss couldn’t come up with a sound counter-argument, Prim flounced away with a smug grin.

Katniss is actually pretty sure that her _dear_ little sister had something to do with the current situation. 

One of the activities the group had to choose from today was trail riding, and while Katniss preferred to ride one of her own horses, the thought of climbing onto a saddle sounded like the perfect opportunity to get out of the house. She could use some quiet time to clear her mind.

Prim had declined the invitation to go along. Still, Katniss happened to notice the little traitor grinning to herself in a way that could only be described as _diabolical_ when she thought her older sister wasn’t paying attention.

She couldn’t say she was particularly surprised when the only other person who showed up for the trail riding session was Peeta Mellark, even though he didn’t seem particularly comfortable on the back of a horse.

_He is persistent,_ she thought, as a plan formed in her mind _. But I’ll break him._

* * *

“Peeta, I’m so sorry!”

He shook his head. “It’s fine, Katniss, I’ll live- I don’t think anything is broken.” 

Despite his words, Katniss still feels terrible. She’d decided to give him a little scare, goading her horse to switch from a gentle trot to a breakneck speed once the wooded trail opened up into a grassy meadow. Peeta’s horse immediately wanted to get in on the fun, picking up her pace and following the other rider’s lead. 

Peeta had looked terrified. 

_That’ll_ _show_ _him; Katniss_ had thought, urging her horse to go even faster.

But then disaster struck. How was she supposed to know that his horse had a stubborn streak and would come to a screeching halt when they reached the stream? A more experienced rider like herself would know how to hang on, but Peeta obviously was not an experienced rider because he flew out of the saddle and into the water. 

To her everlasting surprise, as she climbed off her horse and ran over to help him, feeling like a gigantic jerk, Peeta just laughed ruefully as he attempted to get up out of the shallow stream. Katniss couldn’t help but be impressed by his calm demeanor. 

She thought back to the last boy she’d dated. Gale Hawthorne had a quick temper that was so similar to her own, and the two of them had been a disaster from the start. The relationship fizzled out before it began because the only thing they ever did was fight with each other. 

She shook her head to rid herself of thoughts of her ex. Taking a deep breath, she reached her hand out to help Peeta stand up. His large, warm hand covered hers as he pulled himself upright, and once back on his feet, he looked at her for a moment before dropping her hand and glancing away, his cheeks flushed and a shy smile on his lips. 

Katniss’s stomach clenched, and she found herself grinning at his back as Peeta walked over to remount his horse.

_Maybe he’s not that bad; Katniss_ thought as she held the horse’s reigns while Peeta hefted himself back into the saddle. _This might be worth a shot._


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part two of the last chapter's drabble, a little follow-up from Tumblr.

**“I d** on’t like this, Prim,” Katniss mutters, coming to an abrupt stop in the doorway of the restaurant. She’s just gotten a look at the blond head waiting in their regular booth at El Campestre with the girls’ mom and Uncle Haymitch. 

She glances over, scowling at Prim’s seemingly-innocent face, which is a complete load of crap if she’s ever seen one. The twerp knows exactly what she’s doing. “It’s my birthday. Shouldn’t I have gotten a chance to veto the guest list?”

Prim turns on her heel, giving her sister a look that clearly says, _behave_ _yourself_.

Katniss makes a point of keeping out of sight of the trio waiting in the booth. “Katniss…" her sister warns, so she looks over Prim’s shoulder, sighing resignedly. 

She’s gotten to know Peeta pretty well since the two of them met at the Odesta retreat last summer. While staying at the mountain cabin, they’d discovered that he only lived about half an hour away from her hometown of Panem; the two of them struck up a friendship after a trail-riding session that’d begun pretty disastrously, but the day actually turned out to be an eye-opening experience. 

Peeta was an inexperienced rider- unlike Katniss, who’d practically been born on the back of a horse, and he’d been thrown from his mount into a shallow stream after the horse came to an abrupt stop. 

What had changed Katniss’s mind about him was how well he’d taken the incident, laughing the situation off after he figured out that his injuries were no more serious than a handful of bruised extremities. 

She’d had a nice time with him the rest of their ride, finding that he was easier to talk to and even nicer than she’d expected him to be. And so now here they are still friends ten months after coming home from North Carolina. She texts him almost daily, and they hang out a few times a week, even though Peeta let Prim know months ago that he’d like to be more than just friends with her. 

But Peeta wasn’t pushy, and Katniss was determined to keep him firmly locked in the friend zone. Things were much safer that way. She liked him, yeah, but how could you not? He was admittedly good-looking if you liked broad-shouldered blonds with shy smiles and bright blue eyes. He was kind and thoughtful and had helped her out of a few scrapes over the winter months, dropping everything if she needed him. If she’d wanted to date someone, then yeah, Peeta would be great, but why complicate things?

None of those facts entitles her sister to invite Peeta to the family dinner they have every year on her birthday at her favorite Mexican restaurant. 

Heck, Gale hadn’t come even once to this, and they’d dated for almost two years. 

The whole situation reeks of a family conspiracy.

“Katniss,” Prim tells her, exasperation evident by her tone, “why won’t you just give him a chance?”

“I don’t want to date anyone.” Katniss quips. “I’m fine on my own.”

“But you’re not really on your own, are you?” Prim rolls her eyes. “You’re just too stubborn; you know that? I don’t know why you won’t give him a chance to be more than friends.”

Katniss shakes her head. She doesn’t owe Prim or anyone an explanation for the way she feels.

“Would you rather be a mean old lady and die alone, or would you rather get over yourself and give the nicest guy I’ve ever met, and I do mean ever-”

“Yes, Prim, I know. He’s nice. La-di-frickin’ da.”

Prim acts like Katniss didn’t even open her mouth as she finishes her thought, “-a chance? What about a chance for you to be happy!”

Katniss laughs at that. “Why do you think I’m not happy? I’m thrilled. Listen to me, Prim, I don’t need anyone!”

Prim spins on her heel, flouncing her long blond hair over her shoulder in a very obvious brush-off.

“Stupid Prim,” she mutters, following her sister to the booth. “Thinks she knows everything.”

“So, ah, that was kind of awkward at dinner, huh?” Peeta tells her as they cross the parking lot to her pickup- an old three-quarter-ton beater that uses way too much gas but is essential to pull her horse trailer. “I’m sorry if you didn’t want me here tonight.”

Katniss’s face turns red. She hates this, hates Peeta thinking she didn’t want him around. 

Why does she have to act like such a stubborn jackass? She’s becoming a real pro at ruining her own life. 

“Peeta, no, that’s not it. I’m glad you came, really.” But she can understand why he would be confused. Admittedly yes, she hadn’t been thrilled to see him at first, and then Katniss had proceeded to scowl her way through two-thirds of dinner, only realizing as she finished up her tamales that Peeta probably thought she was mad at him. 

And that wasn’t it, not at all. She wasn’t upset that he was there; in fact, watching him on the other side of the tightly packed booth was the only thing that made dinner salvageable. Katniss had been irritated with Prim and her mother’s meddling, not to mention her drunk uncle, who kept making snide comments about how Katniss really didn’t deserve a nice guy like Peeta. 

That comment had royally pissed her off.

Peeta shakes his head. “No, I should have known better when Prim invited me.” He looks at her then, his expression saying it’s okay- I know when I’m not wanted.

The stupid boy has it all wrong. “Anyway, I have to open up the bakery for Dad in the morning, so I’d better get going. I’ll see you later?”

And it’s the last bit, the hesitation in his voice, that causes her to act.

_Prim’s_ _right_ - _I’m_ _too_ _stubborn_.

And… it’s a realization she’d come to just a quarter of an hour ago (when his legs kept getting tangled up with hers under the booth, and instead of being annoyed with the situation, she found the closeness with him to be surprisingly nice; it was completely out of character for her because she didn’t usually like to be touched), but the thing with Katniss was once she knew something, she knew it. There was no going back- once someone snuck under her prickly outer layer, they are there for good. It surprises her a little, but Katniss realizes a few things.

She likes Peeta. 

A lot. 

She wants to be more than friends with him. 

She’s pretty sure she wants everything with him.

So before he can turn and walk away, Katniss grabs him by the elbows. “Hey, wait a minute,” she says.

“Sure-” 

But Peeta doesn’t get another word in. 

His lips are too busy underneath hers.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Katniss and Johanna's shenanigans leading to Katniss and Peeta lip-lock (it's cute) from Tumblr.

“I can’t believe you said that, Brainless!” Jo laughs at me, under her breath, of course, as we watch the Queen Bitch, Miss Popularity of Panem Central High School herself, Glimmer Demeckes, head towards the school exit instead of the gymnasium where the wrestling finals are getting ready to start in just a few minutes.

It’d kept her away, for now at least, and I’d never been so relieved to see someone go.

“I know you’ve never kissed him! Why did you say that about Peeta?”

I shrug, bending over to grab my book bag off the floor. “Because she can’t have him,” I mutter. “Glimmer isn’t good enough for Peeta.”

“Do you really think saying, “Oh, you mean Peeta? He’s a bad kisser,” is going to get her to leave him alone?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know… _dang_ _it,”_ my eyes are firmly planted on the toes of my scuffed-up shoes so that she won’t notice the tears forming in the corner of my eyes. “I just panicked.”

“You know what might be a better way to keep other girls away from him…”

I shake my head. “You know I can’t. What if he isn’t interested in me that way? I don’t want to lose him over something so stupid, you know, like the way I really feel about him.”

“I’m pretty sure that would be impossible,” Jo throws her arm around my shoulder as we walk. “All you need is a little help, and believe it or not- I actually have a plan. Leave it to me.”

This sounds like a terrible idea, but I’m desperate. I’d rather dig my own eyeballs out with a spoon than watch Glimmer put her hands all over Peeta.

Jo whispers conspiratorially in my ear as we walk through the gym door. “Leave everything to me. You’ll be testing out your words in no time at all.”

* * *

“Jo, I don’t think this is a great idea…”

“Brainless,” Johanna gives my butt a firm swap as she climbs up behind me on the ladder. “It’s a great idea. Now go on, get your sweet little fannie in there!”

I cock an eyebrow at her. “Sweet little fannie?”

She sighs, stopping one rung below mine. “Do you want my help or not?”

“I’m starting to think not,” I admit. It’s a good thing we’re both small, and I’m not afraid of heights since we’re currently on a ladder outside of Peeta Mellark’s bedroom in the middle of the night.

“It’s a great idea,” she hisses, reaching around me and pushing the just-barely-cracked window the rest of the way up. “It’s guaranteed to work.”

“Jo, this isn’t one of those Pride and Prejudice fanfics, where Elizabeth climbs up to Darcy’s window and is ravished as soon as she climbs in the room.”

Jo snorts from behind me. “Does that mean you _want_ Peeta to ravish you?”

“Maybe a little,” I whisper, my cheeks heating up even in the cool night air. “You’ve seen what he looks like in that wrestling uniform.”

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” Jo says, laughing. “I’m going to have grey hair before you two even kiss at this point. Quit thinking and go. Just get in there!”

“Are you sure I can do this?”

“Damn sure I am. You’re Katniss Everdeen, the ass-kicker…”

Well, now she’s just padding my ego…

“Now, go!”

With her words, I woman up, climbing over the windowsill and into Peeta’s bedroom, with the soundtrack of Johanna’s snickers coming from behind me the entire time.

After what feels like an eternity of fumbling around in the dark, I finally make it to his bed, where I sit gingerly on its edge. At this point, what I’m sure is only a minute or two later, I’m hoping he doesn’t wake up because I’m so embarrassed. 

I should have just gotten my eye-gouging spoons ready because this idea is the worst. Peeta is going to think I’m crazy- he’ll run screaming into Glimmer’s skanky arms.

And he might be right…. this feels pretty crazy.

Mind made up. I’m just going to turn around and go back home when I feel a movement on the bed beside me. 

“Rye?” 

Oh no, Peeta’s awake, and apparently, he thinks I’m his brother, which is kind of weird, but whatever. 

“Quit moving. I’m trying to sleep.,” he says, and then it’s quiet again. I hold my breath, hoping he goes back to sleep so I can get out of here quickly. “Wait…are you…what?”

And then Peeta is upright, squinting at me.

“Katniss.” Loud silence. “What are you doing here?” he asks, voice rough from sleep.

I stare at him, my mind blank. 

What the heck am I supposed to do now?

He licks his lips and peers at me seriously, waiting for me to answer him. But the thing is- I don’t know what to say. What am I supposed to say? I can’t form a single word. I can’t even _breathe_.

So, I do the only rational thing.

I leap off the bed and run for the window.

* * *

Well, something I was apparently never told (like I was just supposed to figure this out on my own), but now know to be most definitely true, is that wrestlers are fast movers.

Very fast.

Even when they’ve just been woken up unexpectedly.

My hands were on his windowsill, ready to vault my dumbass over it and back outside onto the ladder-

(probably taking Jo and I both out in the process because I was moving so fast myself.

Next, we would’ve both fallen to the ground and lay there in an undignified heap while Mr. Mellark called an ambulance, both of us with several broken limbs, during which time Peeta would come down to check on us, and I would’ve had the talk to him anyway.)

-when I felt Peeta’s hands grab my hips.

The force of my stopped momentum was enough to hurl me back against his chest, catching both of us off guard, leaving us to tumble together into a pile of arms and legs, and _oh my lord, he wasn’t wearing a shirt..._ I realize, feeling the warm press of male skin along every edge of my t-shirt.

Somehow we end up with my back against the bare wood floor while Peeta straddles me, his legs over my hips and his hands pinning me to the floor by my wrists.

We‘re both breathing heavily, and I want to look away from him and try to save a little of my dignity, but I can’t stop staring at the way his chest and shoulders move when he breathes like that...

Peeta stares down at me, his gaze rolling across my face from my eyes down to my lips. He inhales sharply when I lick them nervously, and then his head dips lower until our noses are almost touching.

“Not that I’m complaining about waking up to find a girl in my bed, but what are you doing here?”

I shrug, my throat seemingly paralyzed.

Peeta shocks the heck out of me when he rubs the tip of his nose across mine and down my face.

My heart is thudding like mad when he reaches my jawline, and I can’t help but gasp softly when first his nose and then his mouth brush the side of my neck.

“I guess I’ll just have to fill in the blanks myself,” he whispers against my lips next.

And then he kisses me.

And from a little higher up above where the two of us lay with our arms wrapped around each other on his floor, I hear the sound of Peeta’s window closing, followed by the creak of a ladder.

Jo’s going to be impossible to live with from now on.

Totally worth it.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon prompt on Tumblr :) 
> 
> "Your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile, and I couldn't help but steal it."
> 
> Just a short, funny drabble.

**”Your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile, and I couldn't help but steal it.”**

Peeta flipped his wrist over yet again to check the time. He’d been waiting on his roommate Katniss for well over half an hour now. 

The two of them were supposed to meet up with everyone to celebrate her cousin Gale’s birthday- in less than ten minutes now, according to his watch: way less time than it would actually take them to get to the bowling alley/adult-centered arcade/restaurant in downtown Panem. They were already going to be terribly late- he was just worried they would miss everything at this point if she didn't hurry up.

”Katniss- we’re already late! We really need to go, ” he hollered down the hallway, trying to get her to stop whatever she was doing in her bedroom and just come out already. ”I'm sure you look great!”

The bedroom door slowly opened, and Katniss stepped out. Her chin pointed up at a defiant angle at the same time her wide grey eyes dared Peeta to say anything about what she was dressed in. 

He smiled at her, albeit in a way reminiscent of a confused puppy. ”Is that my-”

”Yes, it's your flannel, ” Katniss replied, striding past Peeta in a way that signaled she would not be taking any more questions about her theft of his shirt. Instead, she stopped and stared him down; one eyebrow cocked in a challenge. ”It was in the laundry pile, ” she said, tugging on the collar, ”and you know everything left in the basket more than a day is fair game. Now, are you ready to go, or are we going to stand here and talk some more until we’re beyond late?”

Peeta shrugged, putting up his hands in surrender. She wouldn’t get any more arguments from him. 

” Let's go, ” he said easily, following her towards their front door. Peeta regarded himself as a pretty smart guy; he wasn’t about to challenge her claim.

Besides, he was perfectly aware that the flannel shirt in question, now tied at the waist of her jeans, hadn’t come from the clean laundry pile in the basket. He’d worn it for a few hours the other day. After taking it off, he left the shirt on the back of the dinette chair.

And Peeta certainly wasn't going to admit to Katniss that he'd caught her holding the shirt up to her face and sniffing it unceremoniously when she thought he wasn't looking. 

He’d keep that little detail to himself for now.

  
  
  
  



	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the Tumblr Prompt word "Sweat."
> 
> Rated M for sexual references.

It’s so hot in my workshop today; sweat is rolling down my forehead and dripping from my chin relentlessly. I wipe my forehead with the sleeve of my t-shirt since my hands are occupied, but it doesn’t do much to end my misery. My whole head is soaked with perspiration, but I can’t stop what I’m doing now, or this green ombre stained-glass pane for the window I’m creating will be ruined. 

The oppressive heat reminds me of the days I spent back home in the bakery, before art school, and my completely unexpected love of glass-blowing that developed from a sophomore year class. That love affair with melted sand and pigment led me to open my own shop in the middle of downtown Panem, in a building Katniss (who I fell in love with at the same time) and I bought. I work downstairs, and we live in the upper story apartment- thank goodness it has air conditioning.

_Besides_ \- I think of how my wife greeted me at the end of the day that last time it was this hot in nothing but a thong. The _heat_ _isn’t_ _all_ _bad_. There’d been a box of ice pops in one hand and a smirk on her face, and when she suggested we use them to help each other cool off, I nearly came undone right there. 

I decide to call it a day as soon as I’m done with this pane. Quitting early will put me behind on this project, but I can’t concentrate on work anymore; I can’t stop thinking about the icy feel of her tongue that day as she used it on me, or the way she squirmed beneath my mouth when I returned the favor and the taste of popsicle combined with the taste of her, my favorite flavor.

First, though, I’ll send Katniss a text and ask her if she’s in the mood for banana or cherry.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Tumblr prompt word "Soak."
> 
> (Yes, of course, it's about sex, I think you guys know that about me by now! lmao)
> 
> A little regency(Ish) enemies to lovers with minimal context but lots of dirty talk, lol.

“So what you’re telling me is that you aren’t affected by me, by my presence, at all?” Peeta asks, his lips inches from mine. 

When he speaks, his tone is low, and it is dangerous to my resolve; each word is velvet soft and curls deep within my belly. Everything about the man, from his crooked smile to his piercing blue eyes, is a seduction, and I am more than ripe for picking. 

He waits on my answer like a trained cat, ready to pounce. “No one has to know. It can be our secret.” Peeta stands so close to me in the dark hallway, caging my smaller form in with his body. “No one needs to know your nemesis has become your lover.”

“No,” I answer. My chin lifts, but still, I curse the tremble in my voice at his nearness, showing my answer for the lie that it is. 

I hate the man so much- I wish I could convince my body of the same thing.

“No, you don’t want me, or no, you shouldn’t?” He asks, moving closer. It infuriates me that, yes, Peeta knows I want him but will wait for me to make the first move like the bastard he is. This means it’s up to me to stop this dance of seduction or move things forward. I’m so weak and so ready for a man’s touch. 

No, not just any man’s touch- his touch. I can admit that now.

“I shouldn’t,” I whisper, my harsh tone dropping away. The way my chest heaves is hardly subtle. Peeta has been with enough women, surely, to recognize my desire.

“Katniss, there’s nothing wrong with giving in to your hunger,” his fingers lightly trail across the skin of my shoulders. He hesitates at the upper curve of my breasts, exposed to his view by the wide neckline of my dinner dress. “It’s perfectly natural. Sex makes the world go ‘round. I just bet,” he says, his voice dropping conspiratorially as he tilts his head to whisper in my ear, “your underthings are positively soaked in your own desire, aren’t they? If I got down on my knees before you and pushed up your skirt, your sweet scent would fill my nostrils. Don’t deny it- I’ve never known you to be a liar before. Don’t start the habit now.”

My face flames at his words, anger at his forwardness and disgust with myself warring because yes, damn him, Peeta is right. I am a trembling, flaming mess.

“Why you-” I begin, but stop when he backs away from me, finally, at entirely the wrong moment.

In the growing distance between us, I am hot and flustered, and so angry. Where does he think he’s going?

“Think of me tonight when you are alone in your bed,” Peeta says, his eyes burning through me like a white-hot flame, “because I will surely be thinking of you.”

With those words, he turns to leave me alone, but to his credit, he stops immediately when I speak. He does not turn around to look at me yet, but I know I have his attention, regardless.

I am too hot-headed and foolish, it shall be the death of me one day, but tonight I will not be denied. “No,” I say defiantly. “I will not think of you alone in my bed.”

“And why is that?” Peeta asks, his head finally turning to the side. It’s too dark in the hall to see where his focus is, but I sense that I have every bit of his attention.

“Because I will have you in it,” I say, stepping towards him. “And damn the consequences.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Werewolf Peeta. A Tumblr shortie rated T/M for sexual thoughts

Katniss crashed through the back door of the Hob and slammed it shut behind her, breathing heavily as she shoved the crossbar down into place. Her limbs were so weak from fear and adrenaline she could hardly use them. This building wasn’t secure, but it was the only place to hide from- that thing Peeta transformed into out in the moonlight. A werewolf.

At least a barrier would buy her some time to get further away. She'd heard the old warnings about shifters ripping girls to shreds if they didn't get away before the blood-lust overtook the creatures. Katniss would never have believed the sweet baker's son was one of them; if she had, she wouldn’t have kissed him in the first place.

Katniss was turning to run away when a tremendous bang came from the other side of the door- Peeta, the creature, was hurtling its body against it, trying to get to her. An inhuman, triumphant wale assaulted her ears, and she stood frozen to the floor, horrified, as the wooden door splintered before her eyes.

There was nowhere to go that he wouldn’t find her.

* * *

The walls of the Hob shook, reverberating with the force of the creature’s freakishly large body slamming against the door, his shrieks finally piercing the night air as the last of the door gave way beneath his shoulder.

Something about the thuds and the banging and the jarring of the walls screamed at Katniss to _run_ , _move- now_ _is_ _your_ _one_ _chance_!

She couldn’t do it. Her body refused to cooperate. Every muscle remained locked in place as the time for action slipped through her fingers.

When a large section of the door dropped to the floor, Katniss backed into the corner, fervently wishing she could melt away and disappear as the werewolf-

(-how could this thing, with its ice-blue eyes that glowed with unnatural fire and it’s razor-like fangs pressing into those lips she’d just kissed but now seemed ready to rip her limb from limb, have ever been her Peeta?)

-shoved his way through the last of the splintered wood. He knocked the remains of the barrier aside as if it is insignificant and continued stalking her way.

As he loomed over Katniss, his body heat and scent overwhelming her senses, her brain ceased functioning. There were no thoughts, no rationalizations. Only an awareness of him and the power he held to do whatever pleased him with her. Her nervous system seemed to short circuit, leaving her pulse racing.

The creature’s eyes locked on her, trapping her in place.

Her heart thudded a frantic rhythm inside her chest like it was trying to fly away. It shocked Katniss to her very core, realizing what she was experiencing wasn’t an entirely unpleasant feeling.

_This is crazy_ ; she reminded herself as heat snaked through her body, ending in an unfamiliar pulse between her thighs. The feeling wasn’t entirely foreign, though- Peeta had elicited a similar response from her earlier.

Only Peeta’s touch or kiss hadn’t been bound up with fear like this moment was. The fear was only making the desire stronger- it was shameful yet undeniable.

“Come here,” the creature (Peeta?) said softly, a smile turning up the corners of his lips.

Katniss shook her head no.

He (Peeta) stepped closer. “I won’t harm you,” he crooned, “if you’re good, then I can be very, very good.” The creature was close enough now that she could feel his breath on her skin. “But if you’re bad, I can be so much worse.”

“What’s the difference?” Katniss managed. She licked her dry lips, and his eyes dropped to them. “What does my compliance earn me?”

“You’ve awoken an instinct in me.” He admitted huskily. His whole body seemed to vibrate with barely controlled restraint.

“So that’s what we’re calling this?” she heard herself say. “An instinct for what, blood?”

“No, an instinct for my mate. You.” The creature’s eyes traveled back to hers.

Katniss felt as if he was reading every wild thought inside her head.

“I will know you in every sense of the word.”

“You will?”

“I will.” He molded one finger against her lips, his clawed finger pressing into the soft flesh of her mouth. When Katniss shuddered at his touch, his eyes narrowed.

She was still afraid, but that fear was now directed toward her own dark thoughts and no longer at him. Creature or not, shameful or not, she wanted him. Katniss was sure he wouldn’t hurt her now, but what of her?

What kind of person desired a monster?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who indeed? "Sighs dreamily" Who indeed...
> 
> ;).
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Tumblr shortie- based on the prompt "Sunbathing"
> 
> Rated T :)

_Post-Mockingjay._

“Ugh,” Peeta said, rolling over onto his stomach.

Katniss hovered over him, balanced on her knees with the bottle of sunscreen in her (nicely tanned) hand, ready to apply more SPF 90 to his fair skin. They hadn’t even been at the beach for an hour yet, but Peeta wasn’t willing to take any chances. He’d gotten a blistering sunburn the last time they were here, and he didn’t want a repeat this trip.

The two of them were in District Four for the month, visiting Finnick and Annie (because, of course, Finnick is alive- he kicked those sewer monster’s collective asses- remember that part in Mockingjay?), Prim (also still alive), and their mother.

“I hate the way I have to reapply this stuff while we’re out here constantly,” Peeta complained.

“You could just skip it,” Katniss told him innocently, biting her lip to hold back a laugh. 

“Okay, miss olive skin. That’ll be enough from you.” He muttered.

“Aww, don’t be mad. It isn’t all bad,” Katniss said. She squirted a healthy amount of sunscreen into the palm of her hand and proceeded to pull his swim trunks down just far enough to slip her hands inside and rub sunscreen on his plump cheeks.

“I’m not complaining,” Peeta groaned, his hips going stiff and muscles tensing. 

She knew he was instantly aroused. 

“But that part of my body isn’t uncovered.”

Katniss bent over him and gently bit down on his earlobe. “It will be soon,” she whispered, before straightening up and rising to her feet. 

Peeta chuckled under his breath- he was always game for whatever.

She let her eyes rove up and down the beach- no one appeared to be paying them any attention. “Come on,” she said, grabbing his hand once he was on his feet, “there’s a dune over there just calling our names.”


	27. February

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated G- a silly little drabble in honor of my husband and his abiding hatred of the Mail-Box wrecking Highway Department where we live :).

For such a non-violent man, Peeta is angry. Furious even. It’s just- this is the _fourth_ time this winter and the third mailbox they’ve gone through already. 

Yes, the highway department will fix it for them if they call. No, he won’t wait for them to do it. 

The mail waits for no one, dammit.

Peeta’s nose is pressed against the front window, watching the flashing lights of the plow truck as it makes its way down their road. Snow billows out from either side of the front plow. Salt is spraying out of the spreader on the back of the dump bed of the truck. The truck is clearing the road off. It’s still snowing, though, so he knows this isn’t the last he’ll see of his winter arch-nemesis tonight.

“I just hate them so much,” he says, almost to himself. His voice is low, so the kids don’t hear him use the “h” word. 

Katniss has to turn her face to hide her laughter against her husband’s shoulder. “Unless you never want to be able to leave our house again, they have to clear the roads for us, you know,” she reminds him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“But they’re doing it on purpose,” Peeta says sadly, and that time she doesn’t cover her laughter at his self-pitying tone.

“Why would they knock down our mailbox on purpose?” she asks.

Peeta looks down at her with a maniacal look in his blue eyes, and hoo boy, Katniss instantly regrets bringing the subject up. 

She should have known better than to begin this conversation while his hatred for the highway department and their mailbox-destroying plow trucks was still burning fresh in his mind.

She only has herself to blame for the forthcoming tirade about the only thing that gets her typically mild-mannered husband riled up these days. 

The Highway Department.

“Katniss- don’t tell me you forgot already! What about that year before we got our snowblower? Or the year I watched them steer the front plow directly into our mailbox-”

“You don’t know that was intentional. It could have been an accident,” Katniss reminds him, eyes wide. 

Peeta needs to calm down before he has an aneurysm.

“It was intentional! Or that day I was out shoveling, and that red-headed guy that likes to flirt with you from his truck plowed more snow into our driveway while I was in the middle of shoveling?”

Katniss frowns at the mention of Darius, one of the regular drivers and someone she knows slightly. He has stopped to talk to her several times while she is out mowing the yard. 

She hadn’t thought of it that way until now, but maybe Peeta does have a point.

She lets out a sigh. “Do you want me to stop at the hardware store tomorrow and get a new mailbox? They said they’d give us a discount on the next one. We’ve bought so many this year.”


	28. Finnick Odair, shirtless, holding a trident.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drabble featuring neighborhood dad Peeta x bad-influence (what else is new) Johanna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a silly drabble cross-posted from Tumblr, where Peeta's had some not-entirely heterosexual thoughts about Finnick Odair in his underwear (can we blame the guy?). Yes, of course, Peeta's happily married to Katniss. 
> 
> Rated G or T: nothing explicit. It's just cheeky good fun.

“I need ideas, ” Peeta admitted to his small audience (figuratively and numerically), running his fingers through his hair until it stood on end.

He had a commission to design a bronze statue for the District Four Waterfront Association, and this would be his first big job since leaving his old design firm and venturing out on his own; he was desperate to make a good impression. Peeta didn't want his first solo project to end in disaster- or almost as bad- mediocrity.

He realized he might be overdoing it, though, conducting this impromptu survey of his daughter, son, and their elementary-aged friends from the neighborhood. 

So far, the only suggestions he'd received was for Dorey the fish and that horrifying crab from Moana. Either one would be a blatant copyright violation- which he couldn’t seem to make the Mason-Hawthorne twins understand no matter how many times he tried to explain it. But Devlin and Jonsey were six, so Peeta supposed he should cut them some slack.

“Oh, I've got an idea, ” Johanna piped in after materializing behind him at the tail end of his explanation on why they couldn't do it anyway.

Peeta glanced at his watch. He hadn’t realized the kid’s Sunday afternoon playdate was over, but it was. The afternoon flew by. 

“Well, I’d love to hear it,” he told Johanna as he bent over to retrieve Jonsey’s blanket before their dog came along and ruined it.

“Finnick Odair,” Johanna said- referring to District Four’s famous hometown boy with the perfect face and body.

“That’s not a terrible idea,” Peeta agreed. 

A waterfront statue of Finnick Odair would certainly garner some attention.

Even Peeta had to admit, for someone who’d always assumed he was straight, he’d had some distinctly un-heterosexual thoughts looking at those photos of Finnick Odair from that Calvin Klein underwear layout he’d run in a few months back. 

The man was just that magnetic, he supposed. 

“Picture it; Finnick Odair- shirtless and holding a trident,” Johanna continued, eyebrows raised in a very  _ tell me I’m right _ sort of expression. “A strategically placed trident, I might add. Maybe more than his shirt is missing.”

Peeta laughed loudly, dismissing the idea with a wave of his hand. “That might be too hot for a family beach. But thanks anyway, Jo.”

  
  



	29. Come Over Here And Make Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated T for language, based on a tumblr prompt

Katniss frowned at the misshapen cut-out cookie, still in dough form, mocking her from the Bakery kitchen's marble countertop. 

“I hate you,” she whispered to the crooked gingerbread man. 

This situation was so frustrating- she hated the pressure of trying to make something pretty enough to sell in the Bakery. Sure, Katniss was good in the kitchen in her own way- she could fix a mean rabbit stew and had finally gotten the hang of baking bread after all the time that had passed since the end of the war and the reopening of _Mellarks_ _Bakery_. 

But these perfect (when Peeta made them) cookies with the flawless icing decor that he was so good at creating? It just wasn’t her thing- she couldn’t make an attractive cookie to save her life.

Not that Peeta expected the same quality of work from her that his natural ability and decades of baking had provided him, it was just that he was so short on help right now he couldn’t keep up. She really wanted to relieve some of that burden for him.

Katniss hated to see him work himself half to death, keeping up with the bakery's demands. It was the busiest time of year in District Twelve. The remade, reestablished Harvest Festival was just around the corner, and there was a never-ending list of treats that Peeta provided for it. They just happened to be short on help, and without enough time to train someone new to help him, the work was mostly on his shoulders.

“Did you say something?” Peeta asked.

Katniss sighed and glanced over her shoulder at her husband. He looked concerned with the annoyance that had to be rolling off her in waves by now. His concern did nothing but irritate her even though she knew it really shouldn’t. 

Cookies should not warrant that expression on his face as if he needed to step in and save her from them. They’d had enough years of Peeta protecting her- or her him- from things neither of them could handle on her own. 

She was kind of tired of it.

Why couldn’t these stupid cookies, the ones she was supposed to be helping _him_ with in the first place, be something easy?

“Just talking to the cookies,” Katniss admitted, turning around to face him and hide the evidence of how bad they really looked behind her back. “They don’t want to cooperate with me today.”

Peeta wiped his hands on the apron tied around his waist and took a step towards her. “Well, take a break then,” he said, waving his hand at the stools in the corner. “Sit down for a little while- we can put the dough back in the fridge, let it chill, and try again later.”

She scowled at him- like it was that simple. “I don’t want to put the dough back in the cooler. I want to get them done because there are a hundred other things to do. They’re making me angry.”

“Katniss-” Peeta began, but she presented him with her back. 

She was going to finish these stupid cookies if it killed her trying.

“Take a break,” Peeta repeated more insistently.

“No.”

“Katniss-”

“I’d like to see you come over here and make me,” she grumbled, expecting he couldn't hear her. She picked up the cookie cutter and violently stabbed another gingerbread man out of the middle. These cookies were going to get done if it killed her trying.

But then she was being lifted in the air, and she shrieked as Peeta carried her away from the work table. “You stubborn little ass,” he panted, biting back his laughter as she fought against him, struggling in those arms of his that were like bands of steel.

“I am not,” Katniss protested as he plopped her down on the seat.

“You are a stubborn ass- if you weren’t, you wouldn’t be arguing with me right now.”

She was still frowning at him when he kissed her forehead. “I am not.”

Peeta smiled down at her in that annoying way he had of de-escalating her anger when she wanted to remain mad at him or anything else for that matter. “Let me get you a drink.”

Katniss crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine.”

“Good,” Peeta said evenly, but as he made his way to the refrigerator, she caught the sound of his muffled laughter. 

He was going to pay for this- darn thoughtful guy that he was. She’d show him.

She was going to make his favorite meal for dinner tonight, whether he liked it or not.


	30. Quit or I'll Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt- rated T/M for sexual innuendo, nothing explicit. Heavily Influenced by Bridgerton :). Everlark are tradespeople, not the ton, because I thought it suited them better. Arranged marriage.

“Here,” Peeta leans across the kitchen counter, indicating I should come to him, not so much in words but by the slight tilt of his head. “I have something for you, wife,“ he says softly.

My skin heats at the title, as well as Peeta’s winsome smile as I draw closer to him.

I’ve only known the baker for a month and been married to him for a week, you see, and am not quite used to the way the word _wife_ rolls off his tongue. The term would sound like an endearment, though, even if our union were an arrangement between Peeta’s father and my own and not a love match. Whether there is love between us or not, even Dutchess Boggs, set up in her fine station on the hill, could not be half so fortunate in the husband fate has given her. 

My new husband is fair, kind, and patient. He treats me well and is gracious and considerate in teaching me the workings of what is now our business. We have fallen into a companionable manner with each other. I would even go so far as to say we are already friends., he and I.

Friendship- perhaps that is not the correct term for what we are; I simply do not know what else to call it. I have friendly thoughts of him, of course, but I never did feel the breath catch in the back of my throat as it does when Peeta looks at me with a friend. 

And the marital bed- surely there is nothing else that could feel half so wondrous as lying beneath my new husband in the dark of night, his body moving over me, bringing each other pleasure I didn’t know the body was capable of. 

The things I’ve discovered about him there especially have been quite _surprising_ , to say the least. I’d thought all unmarried men to be rakes, bedding whomever they pleased, but after our first time, Peeta admitted I was his one and only- that he’d been waiting for me. I was honored by his admission. I’d come to him as an innocent myself. 

We lay in bed together after, and Peeta read some poetry aloud in the candlelight, and I felt so incredibly glad. Blessed, even. I hadn’t expected to draw so close to him so soon, you see. 

He has quite bewitched me.

Once I am close to Peeta, I make out what exactly is pinched between his pointer finger and thumb- it’s the reddest strawberry, the most beautifully jewel-toned specimen I’ve seen this year.

“Delly brought them by,” he informs me, mentioning by name his cousin who is employed at the manor as a kitchen maid.

“That was lovely of her to share,” I say.

“The cook barters them to me when they have an abundance at the house,” Peeta tells me, moving his hand closer to my mouth. “They must’ve had a fine crop because these are beautiful.”

“I do love strawberries,” I admit, thinking of the wild berries I used to harvest in the early summer with Madge and Gale. 

Peeta continues dangling the berry just out of my reach. He jerks his hand back when I reach for it, though. 

I frown, and he laughs.

Well, that will not do. “It is not nice to withhold good things from your wife, sir,” I say, “in fact, it is quite frowned upon.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, and I shall make you sorry,” I say, stepping around the counter towards him.

Peeta’s eyes light up, but he backs away from me as I approach. 

He seems to enjoy this new game of cat and mouse we are playing. “How so?” he asks.

“You quit, or I will bite,” I promise him. 

To prove my point, I grasp Peeta’s wrist and pull his hand towards my mouth. He doesn’t fight- instead, he seems mesmerized as I keep hold of his wrist and take a bite out of the strawberry, releasing its tart, yet sweet, flavor into my mouth. 

When I let out a moan of approval, he swallows roughly.

My eyes locked on his; I chew and swallow before stepping back. “Understand?” I ask.

“Yes,” Peeta says, following me. His eyes scan the kitchen briefly to make sure we are alone before he speaks again, his head bent, face near mine in anticipation. “But what if I want you to bite- just a little?”

I hate to think what might have happened if we hadn’t been interrupted by the delivery cart just a few minutes later. It was scandalous enough as it was to be caught pressed against the countertop by my husband’s body, his hands beneath the bottom of my skirt.


End file.
